#debts always come due

[doctormead]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Danny Phantom, Hellblazer & Related Fandoms, Justice League - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: John Constantine & Danny Fenton Characters: Danny Fenton, John Constantine, Zatanna Zatara, Deadman DC comics, Jazz Fenton Additional Tags: Not Phantom Planet Compliant (Danny Phantom), Divergent Timelines, Mature rating due to Constantine's swearing, Ghost King Danny Fenton, More tags to be added as characters show up, So many f-bombs, OC Gramma Fenton, See if you can spot the self-insert Summary:

After years of playing off one demon against another so that, even with selling his soul multiple times, none can actually claim it, John Constantine finds out that one of his ancestors royally screwed him over and his soul is now the property of the Ghost King. But things don't go QUITE how he expects.

***

Chapter 4 is up!  Come meet more of the family!

[doctormead]

“Hey, Clockwork! I need a favor…”

family(?)

[saturdaysky]

SOMEbody failed his wisdom save to resist unlimited tadpole power, and that somebody is definitely my tav Mayhew. a WIP:

mindflayers are incredibly fun to draw fwiw, do recommend

[cherrysnax]

everyday I rlly do have to deal with the fact that if something happens to me it affects way more than just me. and I don’t like it

[screeching-bunny]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do the yandre!game show host with a himbo/bimbo reader

Yandere! Game Show Host x Bimbo/Himbo Reader Asks 1

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Yandere! Game Show Host would absolutely adore you. He absolutely enjoys how there's absolutely not a single thought behind your eyes. He could literally be nonchalantly pulling up your clothes and you would be too dumb or preoccupied to notice him doing it. Would definitely make you wear provocative clothes all under the pretense of how it would be good for the viewer ratings and that this is just the policy of the company. Now get your ass in those tight little outfits before he explodes due to anticipation.

Yandere! Game Show Host likes how you are basically almost always dolled and glammed up no matter the time of day. He’d definitely feed into your shopaholic habits if you had any and would only allow you to get the skimpiest of clothes. There is probably a one hundred percent chance of you getting every single question wrong on the quizzes so he has to alter your answers for you.

Yandere! Game Show Host: “Okay now sweetie, what does blue and red make?”

You: “Uhhhhhh orange?”

Yandere! Game Show Host: “..... what's that you say? Purple? Why, that’s correct!!!”

You: “No I said–”

Yandere! Game Show Host: “Yep and I heard you say purple!!!!”

Other Contestants: Side-eying him

Viewers: *Too stunned to speak*

Yandere! Game Show Host is shoving his tongue down your throat the fastest chance he gets. Out of all of the yanderes he is definitely the most horniest. If you ever tell him that you want to pay him back for all he’s done for you, he’s immediately whipping his cock out, no questions asked. Just put those glossy lips right on there and all of your debt is immediately forgiven. He definitely makes sure to emphasize how sexually frustrated he is and how he would just loveeee it if someone were to give him the best sloppy toppy ever. Tries to convince you that if you don’t do it he might actually die.

Yandere! Game Show Host enjoys how easily distracted you get and how you have a hard time focusing on multiple things at once. If you ever tried to escape from him all he has to do is talk about how female hyenas have penises and you’d immediately forget what you were about to do. If he ever needed to fall asleep all he'd have to do is talk about the fall of Rome and you’d be out like a light.

Yandere! Game Show Host takes advantage of how you never fully process the dangerous situations you put yourself in. For example when it comes to the sleeping arrangement, contestants are put strictly in one room to be monitored 24/7 but you’d probably complain how you don’t want to sleep in a room with so many people in it. Yandere! Game Show Host would happily decide to offer for you to sleep with him in his bed which you would readily agree to. Next thing you know you’re stuck in bed with a creep who’s busy fondling you to sleep properly. He’d probably try to make this a regular thing and just force you to stay there every night from then on there.

—

You: “It was so nice of you to let me sleep in your bed that was so nice of you. It’s really weird though, you have such a big house but only one bedroom with one bed. You should probably start decorating your house better.”

Yandere! Game Show Host: “Yeah silly me I should really do better.”

You: “Wait a sec–” Notices how there's a piece of underwear that you lost a week ago peeking out of his drawer. “OH MY GOSH YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE!! YOU NOTICED HOW MY UNDERWEAR HAS GONE MISSING SO YOU GOT ME NEW PAIRS!!! HOW THOUGHTFUL OF YOU!!!”

Yandere! Game Show Host: sweating nervously. “... Yeah I noticed that too. You might not want to touch those though. They’re a little dirty because I haven’t washed them yet and accidentally spilled something on them yesterday–”

[amaranthineghost]

NOW IM BACK IN OUR EMPTY APARTMENT, LOOKING AT THE PIECES I WISH WERE YOU ( max verstappen. )

max verstappen x reader

an imperfect relationship between world champion max verstappen and a busy college student now filled with more tension as he fails to hold his tongue after a disappointing race.

authors note: love writing for max, i might have to do it more!!!

HE DIDN'T MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. it snowballed into something he had imagined before but never would've expected it actually happening to him. he could normally control his temper, especially when it came to her. sure, there was a few moments that stood out in his career when he had gone over the limit on certain occasions, going as far as to push another driver, but he would always separate his home life and his career.

at least he would try to. the australian grand prix hadn't played out like he had wanted, or anyone for that matter, because no one wants their car to get fucked and have to retire. especially on the third lap, it was just embarrassing. he was struggling the entire weekend, though his spirits temporarily lifted when he had managed to get pole position. he knew he would, but after the struggles throughout the practice sessions, he hadn't been too sure.

he just wished she would've been there to see it, but she was stuck in their apartment with their cats, jimmy and sassy. she had to do her college work, that was due all too soon, before she could go running around to his races. despite being financially supported by her talented boyfriend, she wanted things to do when he wasn't around, and while school work wasn't exactly many people's cup of tea, it was hers.

she liked the possibilities that came with the experience and maybe one day, she could land a job that would put her in line with her beloved driver. sure, she loved visiting the paddock as a wag, but she would love it more from behind the scenes. of course dating a driver, she already gets to see more than the average person, but she wanted to do something worthwhile with her time in the paddock.

he understood, but he had the only condition of letting him pay for her schooling. debt wasn't fun, and he wouldn't let her fall into that burden. besides, max would love to be able to see his girl working hard in the paddock, but now he wasn‘t so sure if she was his anymore.

he was agitated, she was stressed, and they both knew they didn't mix. they should’ve just waited to see each other in person, but they were both missing each other at the time.

she watched the race on the tv in their bedroom with her laptop on her lap with her latest, big assignment due in the next few days. she was struggling, and she figured it was better to get as much time to work on it as possible so she opted out of flying to australia. still, she watched, hardly stressed, because she knew max was an amazing driver.

but come the race on sunday, his dnf shocked her. she was riddled with worry and part of her wished she had been there. maybe if she had been, this whole thing could’ve been avoided, but the stress she felt now would’ve only worsened had she been with him.

upon the smoke trailing out of his car, hearing the commentators say he had dropped positions, seeing the puff of smoke when his car rolled down the pit lane, the fire on his brake duct, she shut her laptop instantly. now she was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing the screen closely, phone on standby to call him after. she leaned her head on her hands while her elbows dug into her legs.

she watched his tense answers to the media, his uninterested attitude because she knew all he wanted to do was get to his driver's room for peace and sulking. she knew and yet she still made the mistake of calling him right after.

she hadn’t waited long for him to answer, but he didn’t answer right away. hearing no answer from his side of the phone, she spoke first.

“hey,” she spoke as gently and nicely as she could.

“hey.” his voice was short and straightforward, as if he didn’t care about anything she was going to say.

finding the right words to say was like walking on eggshells and there wasn't a lot of room to go. she just hoped she took a step in the right direction when she asked him, “how are you doing?”

“what do you think?” she sighed, biting at the inside of her cheek

“not great,” she muttered, he hummed back in response, which just made her even more unsure of her next words, “ ‘m sorry you has to retire from the race.”

“sorry doesn’t fix the car,” she heard him mumble under his breath, earning a scoff from her.

“excuse me?” her tone was like she had accused him of something, “i get you’re mad right now max, but that doesn’t mean you can be an asshole. i’m just trying to help.”

he scoffed back and she could feel the eye roll he would’ve given her, “yeah, well you're not.”

“what is wrong with you?” she stood up, anger coursing through her.

“i don’t know, maybe the fact that my race was fucked and now you’re bitching to me about my attitude.”

she hadn’t thought before speaking, in moments of high stress she just said whatever she felt, and so did he. what she felt right now was annoyance and anger, “fuck you max,” was all she could spit back, taking a deep breath being speaking again. “news flash, you’re not the only person in the world dealing with shit, it's one race that you got out on, grow up.”

with that she hung up, and he heard the dial tone from his phone, regret beginning to seep past his clothes and into his skin, his nerves, his brain. he just majorly fucked up the most important thing in his life because to him she was more important than his career points, the car, the championship, his entire career, and he just threw her aside in the height of his anger.

he tried calling back immediately after he realized what he had just done, but it had just gone straight to voicemail. when that all failed, he spammed texts, or paragraphs more like, about how sorry he was and how she didn’t deserve the attitude he gave her, but it did nothing.

she sat and watched as the texts and missed calls flooded in. while she understood he was angry, it didn’t give him the right to talk to her like that so she left her phone unanswered while she had gotten up to pack. in less than a few hours, she knew max would be back in this apartment, probably on his knees, begging for forgiveness from her. she knew she would forgive him the moment he did so she wanted to get away before he could.

it didn’t take long, she hadn’t packed her entire life away, but a single suitcase and carry-on bag was enough to last her until she decided to patch things over. taking one last look over her shoulder, one last pet of their cats before she had closed the door behind her. knocking on the apartment door of their neighbors to ask them to care for the felines like they did whenever he left for races and she went alongside him.

but in recent months, moreso in the 2023 season, she found herself attending fewer races than she used to because of the growing tension and stress between the pair. it didn't help that they didn't talk it through, they couldn't because they didn't have the time. she had college, he had formula one, and they both had no time to meet in the middle to amend whatever was broken before. whatever was broken remained as such and only cracked further as time went on and the pressure increased.

they knew they should've come together and met in the middle, but they were both petty and too stubborn. it was another reason they clashed, but they also just worked so well.

he was hoping this was going to be the one time they could've found that time to talk, to sit down and have a deep conversation that lasted hours, that they would've ended up getting side-tracked from and begun to talk about random topics, like they used to. laying on her back with her head in his lap and his fingers through her hair as they laughed at funny memories, or moments they had experienced together.

but when he came home to a quiet, empty apartment, he knew. he knew he shouldn't have hoped for something that was unlikely to happen. his cats rubbed against his legs as he walked about the apartment. dirty dishes that had yet to be washed sitting in the sink, blankets unfolded in the couch and doors left open. the air was stale without her presence and he was left to wallow in it. her absence was a sting against his skin as he kicked off his shoes, seeing a couple pairs less than what there usually was, hanging up his coat alone because hers were now gone.

everything was a reminder if how he had treated her, the words he spat like venom all because he had retired from a single race. he can't stop hearing her venomous last words to him, her tone was like he was the scum on the bottom of her shoe. he might’ve well have been because he sure felt like he was. a piece of trash for the way he spoke, granted he was angry, but he didn't have the right, he never would have the right to talk to her like that.

the floorboards creaked under him, cutting through the silence only interrupted by the sounds of his clothes brushing together as he walked. he peered into the various rooms of the house, seeing half the items she would normally have that had been left behind. pieces of her he was left to further sulk with.

it was cruel, but he understood cruel was what he deserved. he deserved seeing the messy, unmade bed that remained empty for hours after she left. covers pulled back like she had just gotten up to see him, except she hadn't.

she was gone, and he hadn't known where, or if she would even come back. he could only hope that she wished to mend their cracked and shattered relationship as much as he wanted now.

he could only hope.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @thearchieves

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Soulmate! Au ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 043 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ I'm willing to bind myself to you] ¡! ❞

Jinwoo had always been curious about the little red string attached to his finger. He had this way before his regression. His mother always told him that he is lucky that he can see his red string, it meant that he would find his lover faster than anybody else would.

Does he, a man who really could care less about fantasy romance— Find this whole thing cheesy? Definitely.

While others would certainly start flipping rocks just to find their 'one true love'; Jinwoo did none of that.

He had priorities to deal with.

Such as suddenly becoming the patriarch of the family due to his father going missing, trying to provide care to his mother who has come down into a coma, and taking care of his dear baby sister on top of that.

Jinwoo probably got into debt in the process of trying to shoulder all the financial problems.

Would you really think he had some time for romantic relationships and much less go hunting for a needle in a haystack?

However... He did have some small chemistry with Hae-in, though, it felt more shallow than anything. After all, they only met a few times and decided to roll with it just because.

It felt... Empty so to speak.

They say that romance feels like a tidal wave, once it comes— It overwhelms you with such force you'd have nothing more choice than to kneel before it and surrender yourself to it's mercy.

But Jinwoo couldn't feel any of that with Hae-in.

Don't get him wrong, she is a wonderful person. Kind, pretty, all that and whatnot.

But what can he do if a heart does not want what it wants?

His red string wouldn't be reacting neither. Not a glow, not a tug, no nothing.

Jinwoo would eventually find himself just ignoring the little red string until the time he regresses.

Heck, he even forgot about it even if it's literally tied to his very own finger.

And as he traversed the long hallways of his school, hands shoved in his pockets while listening to his friends banter around him— He felt a soft tug on his finger.

"H-hey! Knock it off, I wanna pull for Aventurine myself!" A voice would erupt his bewilderment as a sharp tug at his finger pulls again. "Iseol!"

He looks back to see your figure running after your friend who had taken your phone.

"Huh..." Jinwoo hums, shaking his head and turning away.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo felt entirely restless after that little meeting. It's not like he caught a proper glimpse at you, your back was turned the entire time.

And yet he finds himself completely fidgety. His sister even rants that he had been pacing for hours if she wouldn't snap him out of his little trance.

Has he lost his mind over a girl he hasn't properly seen? Definitely.

Is it the effects of the red string? Not impossible.

"Goddamnit!" Jinwoo sighs, ruffling his head and flopping onto the bed.

"My liege..." Beru's small voice calls out. "My lord, you are... Anxious."

"Tell me about it" Jinwoo scoffs, groaning through his pillow.

"...My liege, I have her scent, do you wish to track he—"

"You do?!" Jinwoo perks up, staring intensely at his soldier before mentally slapping himself. "Ack... No, don't make me a creep"

He felt frustrated, why would he do that? Why should he? He might as well spend his time in jail for even trying to entertain the idea of stalking you.

Jinwoo's gaze would then absentmindedly drift towards the red string on his ring fingerz nothing how much vibrant it's color is now compared to before.

Was it your doing? Maybe.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

He told himself not to be a creep and yet found himself somewhat lingering around you. All the little things about you, he started taking note of.

From memorizing the frequent pastries you buy from the cafeteria, to the drinks you often buy from the vending machine, and even trying to overhear the games you play on your phone.

It was really just curiousity.

After all, he can't help but find it cute on the way your eyes would perk up as you ramble on to your friends about some lore or complaining about some game mechanics because of how hard it was.

Jinwoo was just about to leave you to your own devices until your voice ripped through the air—

"AVENTURINE!!!!" You cheer, standing up immediately and pacing back and forth. "HE'S HOME, AFTER SACRIFICING 30 DOLLARS FOR THIS DAMN BASTARD HE'S HOM—!!!!"

Your heart dropped immediately as your shoe got caught over on a crack— And for sure you were going to land but instead a hand would reach out to hold your shoulder and keep you steady.

"Easy there," Jinwoo says, helping you stand straight.

"!!!!" You panic, pulling away with your face entirely flushed. "I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to!..."

"Wait, calm down—...." Jinwoo wasn't even given a second any longer to speak as you dashed away in a frenzy.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Your heart is beating out of your chest, your lungs are barely catching any breath as you coughed, the noises you made akin to whistles while trying to gasp out for air.

It's tight.

Painful.

Your hands are sweating, trembling as if it's suffering from frostbite.

Is it fear?

No.

It's just how you react after being way too dangerously close to the person you adored so much.

His eyes.

God those grey eyes.

Long lashes, a high nose bridge, thin peach lips, and that agonizingly relaxing scent on him— Gods.

Not to mention his height, he was like a tower. And those broad shoulders underneath his baggy clothing that hid the muscular form underneath—

Sung JInwoo will be the death of you.

You had been avoiding him ever since coming here.

How long has it been?... Ah... It's been 3 years since you arrived in this world.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

It was supposed to be your doctor's appointment. Since you have arrived an hour earlier from your check-up, you decided to stroll around the mall first.

Okay, you weren't really taking a stroll.

Your strides are purposeful and hurried, the goal is clear:

Get to the bookstore.

As you recalled, it should be at the other end of the mall.

It didn't matter how long you're going to walk, you needed to see if it's there. Nothing is more important than that.

Taking the elevator down and nearly having a heart attack from the sound of it creaking as it took you to the lower level; you stepped out and dashed immediately to the entrance.

Glancing around like a madman, you scoured the large and intimidating place before deciding to enter completely and attempt to look for the section you needed to be in.

Passing by interesting books wasn't the goal, and after almost 3 minutes of going in circles you finally saw the section you needed to be in.

As soon as your eyes landed on the cover of the book you have been searching for— You had to swallow your squeals.

Your hands however? They were shaking so bad.

You paced back and forth for a bit before finally deciding to reach out on the book and take it out of it's shelf cautiously.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pry open the thing and feel your heart flutter.

"Jinwoo-ah...." You mumble, giggling quietly as your eyes dilate into heart shapes at the sight of the precious man you cannot stop obsessing over.

Carding your digits carefully on the fine paper, your stroke Jinwoo's face on the page delicately like you were handling the most fragile little thing ever.

You can't help but admire him all the more as you silently freak out like a madman in the aisle.

He was so handsome.

And now that you can physically run your fingers across the pages while crushing on him felt a whole lot different.

You had about a decent amount of money on you, it should be fine. As you reach for your little bag, you hear some crackling above your head.

The next thing you knew? You were suddenly shrouded in darkness.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

You assume you must have died that day while shopping for your first ever solo leveling purchase. After all, you suddenly woke up in an unfamiliar apartment.

It tooka while to get used to it, but apparently you're in seoul living alone in a decent apartment with a black card containing a lot of money.

Complaints? Nowhere.

— Except that Solo Leveling doesn't exist in this world.

Did you have a literal mental breakdown over it? He yeah.

Big tears, pathetic sniffles and nasty snot. All that.

You cried like a toddler just because you cant do your monthly ritual of rereading solo leveling and admiration of Jinwoo anymore.

So with salty tears you grab a pencil and paper to start sketching him down. If you can't read, mind as well draw the image of him when it's still fresh.

It took 3 weeks to recover, and in ur room, your desk is full of Jinwoo's sketches. It isn't the same as the manhwa but it's the best you could do.

It took another 2 to finally come to terms with your new reality.

You're rich, mind as well live life, right?

You even enrolled to a highschool. After all, k-dramas are always centered around that part of life. Why not experience it yourself?

After successfully buying all of your school materials, you glance down at your ring finger and notice a delicately tied red string.

Huh...

That wasn't there yesterday.

Picking at it and attempting to take it off didn't work. So after an hour of struggling, you gave in and let it be.

Maybe the string was proof that you had died.

And maybe it was a sign that this is your purgatory. Or not, everything is way too normal except for no Jinwoo.

So heh....

But ah, it wasn't part of your plans to see a figure... Way too familiar.

Tall, dark, and handsome.

Three words and you associate it with only one person.

Amidst the crowd of students lined up on the grounds your eyes zeroed in instantly on a single boy who stood out amongst everyone.

No way... Right?

That piercing gaze, the fluffy hoodie, and a glove on his left hand.

That was Jinwoo's appearance when he regressed in time and went into highschool.

Shit.

Isn't your uniform similar to Jinah's?

You should've realized in the first place.

Wait no, you're not really mad it's just!... Jinwoo... Seeing him on the crowd, the probability of meeting him in the hallways isn't zero.

How are you going to survive? Is this why there isn't solo leveling in this world?

Because this world is where the protagonist lives?

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

And that is the story of how you arrived here in this world. During the 2 months of being in school, you occasionally passed by Jinwoo, and in each fleeting moment you had to hide in the washroom to try and calm yourself from your panic. Your heart would beat as if it's going to explode, your breathing would be erratic each time that you cant really take a breath.

You always knew that meeting him will quite take a toll on you because you loved him so much, but you didn't think it would be this bad that you look like you're having a panic attack.

Stay Calm.

You need to stay calm. If you pass out from fangirling over your precious idol it'll be embarassing as hell.

Calm down.

You need to calm down.

It's not like he actually saw you, it'll be fine.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

No, it wasn't fine.

Somehow, crossing paths with Jinwoo became more uncharacteristically frequent. It's to the point that you needed to actively avoid his usual walking routes.

Is it stupid to hide from someone who has the ability to locate anyone at any given moment? Yes.

Will you still keep doing it? Yes.

You don't hate Jinwoo, you just cant handle being around him knowing how much adoration you hold inside your heart and knowing that he will never be yours.

It should be around this season when Jinwoo asks Chae Hae-in out and kisses her under the falling snow.

It isn't december 24th yet but... Does it matter?

She's so lucky, having someone like him to admire her.

The only thing you have with you is a lonely life with money.

As well as this stupid red string wrapped around your finger.

What is it meant to represent anyway? A lover?

Surely not.

Who would love you?

The sad, pathetic, lonely, and broken you who doesn't belong in this world.

Just like your previous life and this one, you feel an awful sense of alienation that is unpleasant. The kind of loneliness that eats at your heart every single day.

"Ah, you're here?" A voice from behind you makes you jump and instantly whip your head around.

"A-ah..." You panic, recognizing the familiar grey eyes.

"Now, don't even run away." Jinwoo simply says, smiling.

It made you gulp honestly, something about that grin made you feel like he's willing to pull you into the land of eternal rest if you do.

"U-uhm..." You sputter, fidgeting.

"Not even wearing gloves in this weather?" He inquires, pulling the gloves off of his hands and gently taking yours.

"..."

The red string on your finger tingled, glowing softly as the broken ends binded itself to the strings on Jinwoo's finger.

"How cute" Jinwoo interrupts the silence. "Even if you run away now, these strings will keep us binded."

"W-wait!" You panic, utterly confused as you look up at him.

"I won't force myself on you," He says, his gaze moving from the strings to your eyes. "But I do want to court you properly,... If you'll let me."

"....."

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"That's the story of how me and your daddy got together," You hum softly, caressing your fingers softly against your stomach that is now holding a four month old growing baby.

"What a cute bedtime story," Jinwoo chuckles, approaching from the door and pecking your forehead. "Now, shouldn't you be asleep, hm? My pretty wife needs a lot of rest since you're carrying our little ball of sunshine"

"I just couldn't help it..." You pout at him, and he only pinches your cheek before leaning down to kiss your stomach.

"Mhm, I can tell" He shakes his head while gently pulling the blanket over you. "Go to sleep, jagiya. I still need to shower after a long day at the office"

"Please hurry..." You ask softly, tugging at his sleeve.

"I will" Jinwoo promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead again. "So go to sleep."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Sorry for the inactiveness ahhh... I'm quite burnt out as of late and I've been doing some commissions as well as running errands www. I'll postpone the cai requests for a bit longer ahhh... I have to make assassin au too ejshrgshs. Oh well, here's to praying I figure out wth I want to do with assassin au ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[zae-heeyyy]

Erudition

Summary: Arthur teaches you how to read. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 2,790 Tags: smut, high honor Arthur Warnings: 18+ MDNI

a/n: I spent an unnecessary amount of time perfecting this one. Tried my hand at sketching/tracing/cut and pasting pieces of Arthur's original journal to make this one (don't look at it too close lol). Hope you enjoy!

Edit: If you didn’t know, it was common for adults to be illiterate in 1899 due to the lack of widespread public education.

erudition: the quality of having or showing great knowledge or learning; scholarship.

Poor Hosea had tried everything in an effort to teach you how to read: encouraging you with kind words first, then employing tough love tactics when your stubbornness hindered your progress. On one particular day, you had enough of each other. In a rare moment of weakness, he slammed his hand on the table when you refused to try.

"Wanna be an illiterate ninny your whole life, do ya?" A scowl etched deep lines on his face, and you stormed off, not saying a word. A cough riddled him, and he bowed his head in part frustration and part regret for letting himself lose his temper with you. He only wanted the best for you, even if you didn't want it for yourself.

A particular contemplative cowboy had been watching a short distance away, a pattern Hosea had noticed lately. Still coughing, he waved him over.

"Ah, Arthur. I know you're smarter than you look. Maybe you can reach that girl. I've done all I can, I fear." He pressed the book into Arthur's hand in more of a silent demand than a request. Arthur nodded in understanding, sighing, wondering how he'd been demoted from gang enforcer to teacher.

Cursing under your breath, you prayed that Arthur would just walk away, not because you didn't like him, but because you liked him too much. You and the other women got a kick out of watching him do chores around camp, his shirt nowhere to be found. He was damn gorgeous and didn't have a clue. Nobody else had a clue, either, that you wanted him. You wanted him in many ways and cared about what he thought of you.

The hope that he'd refuse Hosea's request or come another time fell short when his figure towered over you, shading you from the high noon sun. You kept your head bowed, refusing to meet his gaze until he tapped the book's hardback cover, bidding for your attention. Your eyes met his sheepishly. Reading him did not come easy either, especially in your interactions. Something about the way he carried himself around you left you feeling unsettled. There was a perpetual tension that he seemed to shed in the company of anyone but you. You didn't quite get it, though, because he always remained gentlemanly despite it all.

"C'mon." A sculpted, outstretched arm reached down to you, and you took it reluctantly, letting him lift you up from your spot. Following close behind, you let him lead you to the outskirts of camp near a boulder and a broken wagon. The cacophony of camp faded away as you joined him on the ground, your backs against the rock. You sat expectantly, concentrating on your fidgeting hands and fighting off the urge to cry.

"You just gotta focus," he said, opening the book to where you last left off and putting it back in your hands. Shaking your head, you tried to blink away hot tears building up behind your eyes.

"Don't want you to think less of me, Arthur. Don't wanna do it." Keeping your voice steady and suppressing the lump in your throat proved increasingly futile.

"Hush and focus." His tone only made the mystery of him hazier. How could he so easily switch between evil debt collector, out for blood, to nothing short of a gentle giant, so comforting and protective? The thought only made your vision cloud up more.

Blinking rapidly, you took a deep breath to calm yourself before reading the words on the page aloud. You could only get through the first sentence before your voice betrayed you, shaking unevenly, accompanied by a saline drop rolling down your face and onto the page.

"Hey..." Arthur clutched your chin and turned it to face him, forcing your eyes to heed his. "You gotta stick at things. I know it's hard, but that ain't no reason to cry about it." A rough thumb wiped away your tears. He scooted closer to you, wrapped one arm around your shoulders, and held the book with the other hand. "Just relax. It's just me and you out here. I ain't gonna think less of you or let anybody else, for that matter. Forget about all that." You held one side of the book with your left hand, and he had the other with his right, " Here, start again, slow now."

Goosebumps prickled your skin as a wave of calm washed over you. Arthur stayed patient while you composed yourself and read through twice, the second time outshining the first. He nudged you with his elbow, flashing a toothy grin. "See? Not so bad," he remarked. With another breath, not as shaky as your other ones, you closed the book and returned it to him, feeling more accomplished than you had in a while.

Now that your attention wasn't being spent so much, the pounding in your ears grew louder, the source of the sound leading to none other than the relentless beating of your heart. The musk of tobacco and leather infiltrated your nose, making you suddenly aware of how close you were to him. He removed this arm from your shoulders, the missing weight of it making you feel unexpectedly empty. Before he could scoot away some more, you turned to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you, Arthur, for helping me. I know I'm not easy to work with." He smiled shyly and dipped his head, avoiding eye contact. A silence fell between you, and you spoke again, dismissing yourself. "I should probably get back to it." You gathered your skirts to stand, and he wrapped his fingers around your wrist before you could walk away. Even though crimson had crept up in his ears and neck, he kept his face impassive as always.

"When Ms. Grimshaw can spare you, come find me, and we'll keep at it."

So you did. You'd meet in the clearing behind the rock on the rare moments of shared free time, continuing the routine, and you were getting better every day. Then, Arthur brought you a mystery book that he'd found or stolen, and it was nothing like a Penny Dreadful, too complex and challenging for you to decode. You felt like you'd taken one step forward and two steps back.

And just like you'd done with Hosea a few days ago, you tried to storm away from Arthur. You didn't get far before his hands were on your hips, dragging you down into his lap. Faces inches apart, his hot breath warmed your face as he spoke, eyes stern.

"You can't just throw a tantrum whenever life gets hard, woman." Huffing in defiance, you opened your mouth to argue, but you closed it promptly, keenly aware of the change in his demeanor. Your eyes were on his, but his were on your lips. He licked his own, face set with resolve. Letting his forehead press against yours, he kissed you. Without a thought, you kissed him back, melting into his arms. Gaze intense, he tore away from you, talking low and firm. "You're gonna sit your pretty self down and do this, alright?"

Your hand went absentmindedly to your lips, drawing them in as you tasted him. Who knew a kiss was all you needed? With a gentle shove, he settled you back on the ground beside him, retrieved the book, and opened it once more.

When you finished, you looked at Arthur, and he was staring back at you with a cocky grin. It was the first time you'd read with no mistakes. You threw yourself back into his arms, climbing into his lap, a knee on either side of him. Holding you firm by the waist, Arthur didn't hesitate to kiss you again this time, letting desire he didn't even know he had guide him to you. He could have you like that for hours, and he did, only easing his grip on you when you heard pans banging, alerting you to dinner.

Arthur had discovered the key to motivating you, and since then, you discovered a newfound love for reading. You eagerly awaited your lessons, knowing the handsome outlaw's lips would be there for you when you finished.

Arthur was happy to help, but it wasn't just about the makeout sessions for him. Of course, he could die a happy man with you on top of him, but he loved how your eyes lit up when you made progress. He loved seeing you feel confident. He loved making you happy.

Though he wouldn't dare complain, he couldn't help the nagging feeling that Hosea had knowingly arranged this? Arthur tried to go unnoticed in his subtle observations of you, attempting to conceal the fact that he was sweet on you and had been for a while.

"Can't con a conman, Arthur," his surrogate father once told him. Maybe that wasn't just about robbing. The gunslinger wanted you so bad after all this time, needed you, and hoped you needed him just as much. He'd made himself free today, waiting patiently for you to finish your chores, keeping himself occupied with minor tasks. Just as you finished, you watched him disappear behind the grass and head to your spot.

You joined him; the book rested in his lap while he smoked a cigarette. You took the cigarette from him, having a drag yourself and giggling at your own mischief. He snatched it back from you, pretending to be annoyed but smiling nonetheless. Taking one more puff, he snuffed it in the grass. Before he could make another move, you took the book from his lap, replacing it with yourself. Your hands went to the nape of his neck, drawing his lips into yours. He kissed you back, entertaining you momentarily, but withdrew with his hands still resting on your backside.

"Read first, then I'll take care of ya', sweetheart." His eyes were half-lidded, and his voice lowered a few octaves, both weighed down with desire. You huffed and unmounted the cowboy, opening the book and reading, anything to feel his touch again. As you finished the last paragraph, your attention shifted to his hand kneading circles into your thigh. Breath thickening, his other hand fell to the hem of your dress, making it ride up as his hand traveled slowly up your leg.

The reading grew choppier now, your attention too consumed by his touch. You stopped reading altogether when his hand snaked over your thigh, and three of his fingers pressed against a warm, damp spot in the center of your bloomers. Flushing, a faint gasp escaped you.

"Gonna need to get these off, darlin'," he huffed into your ear. Wasting no time, you tossed the book aside and lifted your hips to slide the garment down around your ankles. Desire almost overpowered him; he wanted to devour you, to have his fingers and face buried between you, but he had a job to do, and he always finished the job.

Stopping, he moved his hand from your heat to your thigh and reached across you to grab the discarded book. Clearing his throat, he thumped the book, "Another page." Incredulous, you blinked a few times, gawking at him.

"Arthur, how do you expect me to focus when—"

He cut you off with a curt whistle and a stony glance, "Shut it, woman, and read." His grip tightened on your thigh. Those pools of blue and stern tone sent another jolt through you; god, if only he knew what he did to you. Like you were hypnotized, you opened the book, still very aware of your aching womanhood. He kissed your neck, his chest vibrating with amusement.

"Good girl," he murmured in your ear.

You were wrapped around his finger figuratively, and you craved to be literally, too. As you began to read aloud again, his hand smoothed over your thigh and landed right where you wanted it. He glided a finger up and down that sacred site, stopping on your clit and rubbing tiny circles there. Involuntarily, you arched up into his hand, and his name fell off your lips in a moan, your focus tearing away from the printed words at your hands. Then he stopped, taking away that sweet attention you loved so much.

"Shhh...Keep going;" his voice was low and deep, and he kissed down your neck to your shoulder. He moved his hand back when you started again; it was the most fluent you'd ever read. You don't know how you managed. As soon as you finished the last word on the page, you tossed the book and grabbed Arthur by the hairs on the back of his head, tugging him towards you and tasting him. He groaned and let a finger slip inside of you.

You gasped at the invasion, raising your hips off the ground and tilting into him. Pressing his lips to your ear, he kissed it and whispered mischievously, "You tryin' to get us caught?" You could feel him smile against your ear, and you pulled him to you once more, letting his mouth muffle your sounds of ecstasy.

He loved the way you felt, so velvety, slick, and tight. He teased you, pumping you with just one finger, then lightly circling your clit just to stop and caress you all over. You knew, and he knew, that he could bring you to that peak at any moment, but he didn't want it to be over just yet. He'd dreamed what you felt like for so long, how you'd respond to him, and now that it was reality, he wanted to savor every minute.

You were rocking your hips now, trying to feel any semblance of friction, trying desperately to reach the climax that Arthur kept you right on the edge of.

Then he sank two more large digits inside, making you press your head on his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut. He waited for you to adjust, kissing your ear and talking you through the girthy new additions. His thumb back on your clit caused a shiver to run down you as you relaxed.

"There you go," he mumbled in your ear, and you knew it wouldn't be long then. His thumb never left, keeping a constant speed and pattern as he worked you. Your stomach burned as that sweet, sweet tension built inside of you. Arthur buried his face in your neck, focusing on bringing you bliss. "That's it, sweet girl. Give it to me."

He groaned along with you as your embrace on his fingers tightened, and your body shuddered. He kept his hand there as you came down, relishing in the way your insides squeezed and released him over and over again. His head spun when he removed his fingers from you; you were so wet, all for him. He'd been so focused on you that the bulge in his pants went unnoticed until now.

Meanwhile, you had replaced your bloomers and smoothed out your skirt, trying to reset after the fireworks behind your eyes had exploded. You giggled, seeing Arthur give attention to his own building arousal. You beamed at him, all cheeky and coy.

"I think I hear Ms. Grimashaw looking for me," you teased, standing and dusting your skirt. His face fell bewildered, and you couldn't look at him in fear that your innocent act would falter. "Gonna have to bed me properly if you want more, Mr. Morgan."

With that, you winked at him and walked away, leaving Arthur with just his hand and imagination to satisfy him. You'd decided to join Hosea at a table, taking a piece of discarded newspaper and reading it yourself. He watched, a proud smile growing on his face. It only took Arthur five minutes to calm himself, reappearing from the treeline with eagle eyes that focused only on you.

Crazed, he approached you, placing a heavy hand on the small of your back before removing it hastily, remembering he was out in the open now. Hosea's eyes shifted between you discerningly. He coughed and gestured to the paper in your hand. "Well, Arthur, it seems you're a better teacher than me, after all." Neither of you caught the hint of amusement in his voice. You patted Hosea's shoulder and stood.

"Thanks, old man. I love reading now. In fact, me and Arthur are gonna go to town right now for some more Penny Dreadfuls. We'll bring you another paper, too."

Arthur perked up at this new suggestion and followed after you, practically tripping over himself as you headed towards his hitched horse. Hosea returned to his newspaper, kicking his feet up and chuckling to himself knowingly. His hunch had been right about you two, after all.

[tlbodine]

So, Things Are Terrible and You Want to DO SOMETHING

The election is over and, ah...did not go well. While a lot of folks are doing a post mortem of the campaigns and trying to understand what happened with the vote and fighting over who shoulders the blame, we've gotta turn an eye toward the future and figure out, okay fam, where the fuck do we go from here.

I don't have all the answers on this, and I'm not an authority by any means, I'm just a horror author with a blog. But I've been thinking a lot about it and I wanted to share my thought process with others who might want to DO SOMETHING but feel they're spinning their wheels.

Buckle in. This will be a long one.

Step One: Understand the actual risks and stakes.

I think it is very easy to start panicking now about the worst possible case scenario -- jackbooted military busting into the door to disappear everyone who ever said something mean about Trump or bought a banned book or something -- and let fear turn into inaction.

I'm not saying things can't get that bad, and I'm not saying that it won't be absolutely terrifying right out the gate for some particularly at-risk groups -- but the distance between "now" and "V for Vendetta" is long and filled with a lot of intermediary steps. There will be so many opportunities to prevent the worst case scenario.

I say this because, if your mental image of "Bad Things Happening" is The Purge, it will be easy to wake up on inauguration day, look outside to see that the world is not on fire, think, hey, maybe things will be okay after all, and then completely disengage. Alternatively, you might feel so frozen with terror at the possibility of persecution that you do nothing. This is why people are saying: don't obey in advance.

It is essential for those of us with more privilege to use it to take care of those who are more vulnerable.

So. Who is most vulnerable? What does that vulnerability actually mean? What are the most likely risks of Trump's presidency? Here's a Guardian article that I think does a good job of summarizing some of the main issues. Go read that, then come back here.

Step Two: Take steps to protect yourself

You've gotta put your oxygen mask on first, right? So before you start getting involved in other causes, figure out what risks YOU are at, immediately, and do as much as you can to secure yourself. Some potential action steps depending on your circumstance may include:

Renewing your passport (helpful for leaving the country, but also for gender/name change purposes)

Getting vaccines / boosters

Securing birth control

Ensuring your necessary papers (birth certificates etc.) are where you have access to them.

Drawing up legal paperwork for spouses/partners (always a good idea, a helpful safety measure in case you lose marriage rights)

Bolstering your data privacy and online security. Here's a step-by-step guide I found that could help with that.

The specific steps you need to take here depend on what risks you, personally, face. You'll want to do some more research into this for your particular scenario.

No matter who you are, though, it's probably a good idea to start saving money and being a little more conservative with your spending and/or pay down debts to free up some cash. You don't know what kind of emergency may befall you, and having spare money for an emergency is never a bad idea.

There is a possibility that the cost of many things you rely on might go up, if Trump goes through with his tariffs plan. You will want to plan for that.

Food costs may also rise due to tariffs (we import a lot of food from Mexico and Latin America for example) as well as a loss of immigrant labor. There is also a possibility that food safety standards could fall due to overturning regulations. Now would be a good time to look into local food resources like farm share/CSA, community farms, etc., and to stock up on a few key staples like rice and beans.

Okay. Now that YOU are reasonably safe...what can you do to protect your community?

Step Three: Get Involved

Here is your mission: You need to stay engaged enough to know what's going on, without burning yourself out or exhausting yourself, and to take actual decisive actions instead of wasting your energy arguing on the internet.

Got that? Okay. Good. Here are some action steps:

Support independent journalism. Subscribe to local papers, donate to and watch public broadcast programming. I signed up for news from ProPublica, for example, as well as the news-roundup service What The Fuck Just Happened Today. The goal is to stay informed without falling down an endless rabbit hole of upsetting information.

Share news and resources with others in your circle. This can be a good use of social media. It's what I am doing right now!

If it is safe for you to do so, challenge and educate your friends/family members/neighbors/coworkers. Only if it is safe for you to do so. Do not put yourself at risk doing this. And do not waste your time arguing with people who are unlikely to change. But if you have well-meaning people in your life who you think could be won over, look for opportunities to do this - the right way. I've had some success with this, I will probably write a guide about it in the future. In the meantime, here's a good article that can help.

Join local grassroots activism groups. You'll have to do some work to decide what groups to join and which causes you want to support, because you cannot do everything. But there are tons of organizations taking direct action in all kinds of causes. Search "grassroots [cause] activists in [where you live]" to start finding things. Once you get involved in one group, you might meet people who can introduce you to other groups and causes. Yes, this means you will have to go outside and meet people. I'm sorry.

Join direct action groups. Same concept as above. You'll have to search in your area but once you know people it'll be easier to find more opportunities. Some of these groups may overlap. You might find direct action opportunities by engaging politically and vice versa. GO OUTSIDE AND TALK TO PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING THINGS TO HELP.

Get involved in local politics. Here are some quick tips. A lot of things are affected at the city level - stuff like book bans and bathroom bills are often battled first at local libraries and schools, and you can be part of those conversations! Sheriffs are elected and can have a big influence on local policing. Local elections affect how tax dollars are spent, how homeless populations are treated, and lots more. Don't snooze on local elections. Get involved and stay involved.

Look up your representatives. Get in the habit of calling, emailing, and writing letters. Figure out what legislature is being passed and then call your reps and harangue them about it - both to support bills you approve of and shoot down ones you don't. Sign petitions. Join email campaigns. Here's one you can go sign right now from the ACLU. See? Not that scary.

I think a lot of people figure that getting involved in politics doesn't matter or that it's all small potatoes but...man. The president is not god, no matter what he thinks. The sitting administration is not the sole power in the universe. There is an entire machine of government we can lean upon and act upon.

Finally, some general safety notes:

Some forms of direct action are not legal. Take steps to be safe if you choose to partake. Follow the lead of more seasoned activists for what forms of communication to use and so forth.

If you're not willing or able to put yourself at legal risk to act, you can help others by donating to bail funds and legal defense funds.

We've already seen this in some areas, and it will only get uglier - some bad actors are feeling emboldened by the change in regime and will misbehave. It's a good idea to learn some self-defense skills, in whatever way is comfortable to you, and brush up on some tenets of victimology that can help you stay safe. I'll write more about that in the future.

All right. That's all for now. It's by no means comprehensive...but should hopefully help you get started taking the next step. Stay safe out there.

[whimsickool]

RATING THE ENTITIES ON HOW FUN THEY'D BE AT MONOPOLY:

1.  The Flesh - 1/10, wont stop trying to use severed body parts as its player token, houses, and hotels. This would be fine if they werent so fresh and thus staining the board. Brought meatloaf and refused to specify what meat was actually involved. We agreed to order pizza instead.

2. The Desolation - 4/10, is a sore loser and barely wants to play as intended. It mostly keeps trying to flip the damn board and when finally realizing its temper tantrum won't work, they just give all their assets to one player to tilt the game unfavorably like a dick.

3. The Lonely - 5/10, didn't show up on time, didn't play, and mostly sat on the couch for all of game night watching reruns of Golden Girls. This is due to the lonely feeling one gets when realizing you'll never have friends like The Golden Girls. They still get a point for watching though.

4. The Dark - 2/10, at first they just kept flipping off the lights which made it hard to play but when The Desolation suggested candles (the only helpful thing they did all evening) The Dark responded by leaking dark water all over which got the money and chance/community cards wet.

5. The Spiral - 6/10, just enjoyed going around and around and around on the board, sorta played? Mostly lied about how much money they had or owed or what chance/community card they pulled. This was because, "math is for losers." Thus, they did whatever they could to quickly get back to going around and around the board.

6. The Vast - 4/10, played the game, didnt perform any antics, but they kept pointing out their vast amount of wealth  after getting hotels on the first row. Points lost for being a prick.  I will say, from time to time, I would get the over whelming feeling that I was falling. This wasn't a large issue until it happened to The Spiral and suddenly no one can seem to find the bathroom in petty revenge.

7. The Slaughter - 0/10, killed the pizza man. This provided two major headaches: a deadbody to deal with and the pizza being ruined from being dropped. Luckily, The Flesh found use for the dead body. As for dinner, we resorted to just munching on the snacks. Also, its really uncomfortable being threatened whenever they happen to land on your property and owe you rent.

8. The Corruption - 3/10, always brings rotten snacks covered in mold. Uses live bugs for pieces which aside from being gross is just not effective cause they dont stay still. How can I recall that their property has three houses when the peices are crawling on my wall? I also just think it is common courtesy to shower before coming over to game night.

9. The Hunt - 8/10, overly competitive but focused on the game and largely helped wrangle the others. Did keep making references to Wolf of Wall Street though which got old quick. It is worth mentioning that they also talked alot about their various hunting trips and buddies which was fine at first until they started describing a recent hunt that I think may have been my coworker who went missing last week.

10. The Eye - 2/10, cheater. Fucking. Cheater. I didn't even know you could cheat that many ways in Monopoly. Also they brought the lead pipe from a Cluedo board as their game piece and kept giggling when I asked why. Further, it is rude to pressure a trade deal by use of blackmailing. Had a lengthy argument about how technically you dont have to draw from the top of the Chance and Community Chest pile

11. The Buried - 8/10, dirt everywhere and I can't be certain but I think they made my chairs smaller? Maybe it was the table? I felt far too close to everyone. I will say they did mostly play the game but you will feel buried beneath your debt after landing on their property which... now that i think about it.. why was their rent so high? That can't be right..

12. The Web - 7/10, much like insects spiders are NOT a suitable game piece. Didn't technically cheat but managed to get ridiculous trade deals from everyone, especially The Spiral. The Desolation gave all their assests to The Eye to screw over The Web but.. to be honest the game is still going and I.. is it possible to have a stalemate in monopoly?

13. The End - 9/10, played the game but kept saying we should up the stakes by having losers die. I explained that this was the sort of game where if it goes on long enough, death is actually the preferred alternative. They understood and got really quiet for awhile. I think they are to blame for why I'm up past my bedtime. I'm growing afraid they'll all still be playing by next week.

14. The Stranger - 6/10, tried to pretend they were my mom. I know they arent my mom. So they taunted me bu saying they were my dad. This was effective as I don't know my dad. Asshole move. Also, would not stop commenting how dry my skin looked. Other than that, yeah actually played the game!

15. The Extinction - 0/10, when it was finally time for everyone to leave we all learned why Extinction had not shown up. Bad news, the outside world has been nuked. The good news is that I don't think I have to pay rent anymore. Or go to work. Oh god. What do I do about groceries?

[loveemagicpeace]

🍯Astrology Notes🍯

🪴Virgo rising- are very caring people. They take great care to ensure that you have everything you need, especially for your health. They will be able to tell you a lot about various medicines.

🌱Gemini rising- funny as fuck sometimes. They are people who talk and don't stop. You can discuss all possible topics with them if you want. They have a very open mind. But when it comes to being able to do something, sometimes they are not so open to new things. Let's say one difference between them and Sagittarius is that they are not traveling types and they don't like to travel that much.

💫You will feel most comfortable talking to people with whom you have the same compatible moon and mercury in your house. for example: mercury in the 9th house and the other person has mercury in the 1st house. With this you can see what topics you can discuss with others.

🪐People who has saturn in 1st house looks better when they are skinnier. Because their bones and body structure are more beautifully emphasized. Many times they can have weight problems(they can quickly lose weight from worry).

🍀Earth signs look very down to earth even when they are joking around. Even when they make a crazy joke, they still look down to earth.

���Scorpios quickly stop trusting you. You just have to do one thing and they are done trusting you. When they see that you are dishonest to them in any kind of way, they will not trust you anymore. Especially when they get to know someone from the beginning and notice that they didn't tell them something or hid something from them, and as I said, it could be just one small thing like say you're going to say you're eating pizza, but in reality you're eating hamburger. It is small lie. But this is sometimes also one of the reasons why pisces and scorpio don't go so well together. Because pisces tend not to say everything while scorpios are. Many times, pisces swim off into their fantasy world and sometimes get lost in it. Scorpios are always looking for the truth in everything. I have seen successful Scorpio/Capricorn couples many times.

🍁Fire signs are actually very active people. So you have to prove them love with actions. They want to see how much you are willing to do for them and how much you are willing to risk. When you go beyond your limits and do something really crazy for them, they will really appreciate it.

💷2nd house represents your money & 8th house where you invest money. The 2nd house reflects your underlying relationship to money and patterns around money are often deeply ingrained. With the Moon in Cancer here, your emotional wellbeing rises and falls with your bank balance, both of which may be subject to flux. You can be a rags-to-riches success, but with Saturn in the 2nd you might always feel poor, the millionaire who still buys the budget range at the supermarket. The 8th house is concerned with debt and our relationship to institutions which provide loans, mortgages, and overdrafts. Capricorn on the cusp of the 8th suggests paying your dues and insisting on a proper contract, Sagittarius here you can invest a lot in travel or even illegal things.

☀️The Sun is the central flame of our vitality. Acting according to your Sun sign and engaging in activities denoted by the house it occupies are important ways to increase your energy and vigour. For instance, with Sun in the 1st, you might need time alone in order to recoup your energies - the presence of others can drain you, Or with Sun in the 6th, maybe you like to spend spare time working in the garden or catching up on DIY. The Sun in Sagittarius might mean you like to explore far afield; if in Aquarius maybe you like to holiday with a group of friends. Sun in Scorpio- working in the shadows or researching something no one knows about is best for you. Sun in 7th house you like to devote a lot of your time to your partner.

🧸Some signs are naturally more work-oriented and some more suggestive of needing a slower pace. Capricorn (or its ruler Saturn) is often highlighted in the charts of anyone with a strong work ethic - by contrast, Leo, Libra, or Pisces might engender a bit more need for time off, to play, relax, or dream. Each Zodiac sign has its ideal gap year or holiday. The fire signs might favour adventure breaks, the air signs a chance to meet new faces, the earth signs maybe an eco-trip; and the water signs a sojourn by the sea or in quiet, restful places.

🩰The IC and the 4th house describe home, both as a physical place and as an inner sense of roots, safety, and foundation. If you have Jupiter in the 4th, it might feel natural to you to travel around or you might even choose to live abroad - or with Uranus here, you may experience many changes of home(many unexpected moves). With the Sun or Moon in the 4th, you might be so strongly connected to home and homeland that uprooting yourself will not be easy - your Sun here suggests your life revolves around home in some way, the Moon that your emotional wellbeing is closely tied to it. With Pluto you can feel that your home is intense and that you are always transforming through it (but it can also leave bad memories). With Mercury can mean that you change your home a lot. With Mars you may feel that your home is often chaotic or aggressive and you are looking for a home where you can become independent. With Neptune many times your home is confusing, strange. Many times you find your ideal place somewhere by the ocean. With Venus your home is loving, genuine and you have loving parents to whom you love to return. But it can involve a lot of money or love based on it. So you can feel that your parents never really appreciated you if you didn't have money.

🧚🏼‍♀️About Aquarius: I want to say one thing about them. I would say that if they really really want they will do it. But most likely they are independent people & lost souls sometimes. I think that they are scared of attachment. So that's why they are rather alone. They are looking for someone. Who will be goofy as they are.

💌I think Valentine's Day is for Libras. Libra is a sign of love, romance,beautiful things. And if any sign is inclined to & like to celebrate this day, it's definitely the Libra. But I find it a little strange that it is in Aquarius season.

💘Cupido is definitely a Sagittarius sign. Although people don't believe that Sagittarians are so loving and romantic, but they really are. Cupido shoots into the hearts of people who are meant to be together. If you hit a sagittarius deep in the heart with your love, then you can see the true side of them. Then you can see how loving they are.

🌅The people you attract into your life are usually connected to your North Node.For ex.: North node in Virgo in your 8th house- you will mostly be attracted to people who have a virgo placements, scoprpio placements, or pisces/ taurus placements.

🌊Pluto symbolizes power in whatever house it is. The power you feel in yourself and the people around you. Strong experience of feelings. For ex.: 5th house - privacy, romance, jealousy, strong emotions, strong happiness, attitude towards the things you do, you feel strong love, devotion. Obsession with changing partners maybe or affairs idk. 6th house - obsessed with perfection, control, work, high expectations. 7th house - you attract a lot of possessive partners, obsession with your partner, but at the same time you can be afraid to get into a relationship, mistrust. 8th house rulership- curious, constant control, secrets, power over your secrets, emotional transformations, many dark things, connection with birth and death, great interest in hidden things. 10th house - people can see you as a strong opponent, driven for a career, they can see you as a person who has a lot of secrets, you can present people with challenges. Big influence.

-Rebekah🧚🏼‍♀️🩰🌙

[doctormead]

Ok, Tumblr-hive mind.  I am almost to the point in my fanfic where I introduce Gramma and Grampa Fenton.  As I’ve said in other posts, Gramma Fenton immigrated from Ukraine before the fall of the U.S.S.R.  I’d like to give some indications of her ethnicity/culture without 1) using a huge info dump and 2) not making her a caricature.  I’m not sure if I have many people from Ukraine on my feed, but do you have any advice on mannerisms, clothing or little things I can slip in to give a respectful nod to her home culture?

[jolalibrary]

a debt to pay

frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist

summary: you surprise frankie by coming home earlier than planned, answering the door a-la-fake-porn like, making him drag you to your bedroom.

warnings: smut. established relationship. praise kink. minor (and I mean brief) hand necklace. dirty talk. okay, frankie likes to talk kink. cowgirl riding for iwd. and the pizza goes cold (felt it needed a warning) wordcount: 4.8k an: to the wonderful, amazing @morallyinept - happy international women's day! i hope frankie treating you right is what you had on your bucket list for the day. but if not, just know you inspire me, and i'm grateful for your friendship every day. and ily.

Nothing should surprise him.

He’s seen a lot. A thing some could argue is far too much. In some ways, they’re right.

Frankie isn’t sure people who weren’t doctors should know the exact hue of red that blood is—shouldn’t know the pain from a bullet grazing his shoulder, catching flesh and ruining cloth.

Still, he found himself continually surprised—especially the night he met you.

Falling into him, into his life. Disrupting his days from bleeding into the next, knocking things off their axis. Change should be scary, but it was all welcomed, just not in a way he’d ever thought he’d earned.

Somehow, amidst the chaos you brought with you, you also handed him harmony. You made the corners of his world slot together. Slowly, he even found himself anchoring down to brick and mortar, and calling it ‘home’ for the first time since he’d originally left his for battles and fighting.

In time, even as months became a year, your things found their way to be with his, Frankie had assumed he’d seen everything. Happy to accept it, the routine, the complacency. He looked forward to lazy Sunday mornings with his fingers inside yours, toes curling; Thursday nights in a bar, watching a line appear on your brow as you scoured your brain for an answer to the trivia question.

He liked it, adored it.

And then you opened the front door for him.

Flooding him in golden light that makes him squint, before he finds himself reminded, quickly, he hasn’t seen it all. Not even by a margin.

Because you're not supposed to be here, due back tomorrow.

Your voice on the phone earlier muted, low, "I miss you, Morales," as he stares at your untouched, clean mug on the kitchen counter.

Yet, here you stand. All veiled in barely anything except bits of lace and sheer, a sight his eyes aren't able to tear away from even if he tries. Not even the dryness in his throat or the warmth emanating from the pizza box he's holding (attempting to sear his skin to his palm) is bothering him.

"Bab—"

His words are cut short, ended.

"Oh," you gasp. “Let me take that; and how much do I owe you?”

On registering your words, his eyes narrow, staring.

Doing so from one eye to the next. It taking a while, brain firing, ticking over, taking precious seconds as he remains out in the cold and you stand in the warmth in barely fucking anything, before it dawns on him. Crawls up over him as realises what it is you’re pretending to do, what you're reenacting.

Lips lifting, curling into one of his cheeks he steps in through the doorway. Almost over the threshold, easily able to take another step and close the door behind him.

But he waits.

Fingers twitch at his side, Frankie swallows, eyes dropping, tracing up the bare backs of your thighs as you bend over. Because fuck, you're something beautiful. A thing he always thinks, but finds himself reminded in waves as they crash into him.

Raising his hand, he itches across his chin, scratching along the wiry hair there as his gaze drops to the thin fabric protecting the last bit of your modesty as you and the bits of lace spread across your ass—

“I only have card—unless, I can pay you in another way?”

This shouldn’t be real.

You, like this. Him, standing like this. Not even as he steps inside, eyes trained on you—forgetting what words even mean—as you bend over.

A low exhale escapes, lips remaining parted as he fights to place his palm on the back of your thigh—stops himself from hooking a finger in the band of your underwear and dragging it down your thighs, bending you over the sofa, and burying his—

“I would really like to pay you in some way.”

Your words are almost lost due to the way his pulse has quickened in his ears, thundering, pounding. Feeling nothing but discomfort as his cock hardens against the zip of his pants as you bite down on your lip.

Brain quiet, no thoughts, all rendered silent by your appearance. Only able to shift enough to discard his cap, his jacket—folding it over the back of the sofa, eyes drawing out over you as he takes a step closer. Fingers finding his wrist, pinching, making sure this isn't some dream he hasn't woken up from.

But he can smell the present. The glorious cheese and several toppings, even if devouring the pizza are long forgotten. Because his eyes are raking over you, because how could he not—especially now as you straighten up, softly wiggling your hips.

"Is that so?” his voice rough, words catching. Letters clagging at the back of his teeth as though they attempted to glue to his mouth.

He's aware the three words are stained with want—a small, knowing smile tugging at your lips as you turn to face him, knowing it too.

But then, you always do know. Having long figured him out.

Like always, your eyes meet his in a way he can never explain, no words to articulate, to explain—just shared understanding dancing between the two of you.

“It’s only right,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your fingers reaching out to trace his wire-stubbled jawline. “It’s bad of me to order food and not have the money to pay.”

He catches your wrist, gently but firmly. Pulling you close, steadying you with the other at your waist. Hearing it, the gasp, the briefest of indications you'd been caught by surprise, as he brushes his fingers against the fabric, all unable to stop themself. Half-needing to know what it feels like, as his thumb smooths out, taking his time—forcing the tension to buzz in the air as he leans closer. The distance you small, minimal—almost non-existent—as his breath hitches in his throat.

“You know what you’re getting into?” his voice a low growl, strained.

His gaze locked on you, watching you bite on your lower lip. “I really don’t like being in debt.”

It’s low, the way he replies. Short, two words: okay baby, before he’s leading, guiding, pecking kisses on your lips that likely leave you disorientated. It thrumming in his veins, the fact he gets to undo you, peel off the thin fabric you’ve likely had stuffed at the back of the closet—or even purchased with him in mind on your trip, thighs pressed together, wondering, finger and thumb stroking it as you imagine if he'd rip it off or slowly slide it from you.

He's not sure himself.

A part of him wishes to snap it from your frame in front of open blinds and undrawn curtains. To place his palm on your ass and taste your gasp on his tongue.

But another, the part which has missed you, wishes to wait. Make you wait. Wants to drag it out as long as humanly possible, have you soaked, wet, needy and desperate.

Because Frankie wonders if you've imagined this. Or, if you plotted it or it came to you randomly.

He gets an answer to it when the two of you are behind another door—one more private, intimate.

And it feels different in the bedroom than it did out in the living room.

The lighting being one of the reasons.

In here, you had opted for a darker shade when you’d both redecorated. Told him you preferred it, and had given him a shrug and a smile as you did. It had been a while later when he’d learned it was for him. For his eyes, for the sleep he struggled to grasp. It’ll help, I think? Saying it to him as though it wasn’t the kindest fucking thing someone had done for him.

But then, you are a waking dream.

A thing which has shaped itself and made itself real right before his eyes. Sculpted yourself from wishes and wants, shaping until you’re nothing but tangible and real.

He’s not afraid to tell you that either. Spends hours whispering it into your skin, pressing it close to your ear, repeating it over and over what perfection you are as you look at him with lust-blown eyes and lips parted around his name.

Frankie doubts it’s enough.

Least of all now, when you’re painted in soft white light, all gentle in how it rolls over you, as it becomes clear you’ve been home for a while.

You've drawn the blackout curtains—keeping out the evening—and you'd flicked the little bedside lamp on, doing its best to illuminate the room.

Swallowing, he traces his teeth over his tongue, wondering if you watched him reverse off the drive as you waited to make your move. Wondering if you're snuck in, trying not to disturb—dress yourself up, even if you never need to.

Because you’re a vision always.

The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Even angry because he's left his tools out or with disappointment etched into your eyes because he’s forgotten something, you’re radiant, a goddess on earth.

A thing he finds himself reminded of as he steps closer to you. Fingers fiddling at his side as begins to close the small gap.

If not for the way he’s looking at you, he might have missed the shiver running through you from anticipation—and he knows it because of his action, due to the hungry look he's sure he's sporting as he raises his hands to remove his outer shirt. Balling it up, throwing it, a thing already unremembered before it even leaves his fingers.

"Frankie..."

"I know, just keep your eyes on me."

And you do, ever obedient. A thing no one would believe him off outside of these four walls. Not when you hold yourself strong and are quick to bite back, all wit and quick-thinking in addition to your brains and beauty.

He hooks a finger under the edge of his t-shirt, dragging it up over his head as he hears it—that little hiss, that slight gasp you do as though you’ve not seen him topless a thousand times.

It feels good. Makes heat rise up his neck and flood his ears. For a moment, he forgets he’s not all that. Because he’s soft, a little thicker around the middle, it feels like a lifetime ago he was trained in combat. But the way you look at him makes him feel like that is the furthest thing from the truth.

Fuck, you make him hard. Make him want. Have done since the moment you’d given him half a chance.

It’s why he's quick to pull you close, desperate to slant his mouth over yours. All fiery, hungry. Aiming to claim and write out all the ways he’s thought of you in the days since you’d been away. How the hours of you being gone and the amount he’s missed you have all balled up into a thing that is now fuelling him—sketching his wishes and desires across your lips, against your tongue, burying them past your teeth so they sit in your throat.

He grasps. Likely leaves marks of it on the perfect skin that covers your waist—because his palm is calloused and worn. Reminders of holding things not half as soft as you. A flicker of guilt almost bubbles in his, as he moves to rest it on your cheek, cradling your jaw and ear in one hand, as he slides the other up your back.

You whimper against his teeth before fingers find the clasp—finger and thumb, pinging it open before he feels fabric scrape against him—then you moan.

His chest being greeted with nothing but warm, smooth bare skin—nipples pebbling in the cooler air before being pressed against him, before he cups the swell of one, thumb stroking, playing a pattern.

“Do this for all the deliveries you get?”

You snort, it blowing out in a breath. “Only the ones with packages I like.”

In the time you’ve been together, you’ve said worse, but this time makes cock harden more than it already is. It's almost uncomfortable, in how it presses against his zipper, wishing to be released, as his index and thumb stroke over your skin. Taking it on how warm you are, how impossibly soft—distantly feeling the tremors from your heart hammering into your ribs.

"Too good for me, you are." You hum, as he seals his mouth back over yours. “But, I don’t take card.”

Purposefully, he drops his hand, fingers dipping, tracing across the lace that covers your slit—finding damp fabric as his ears take in the note of a quiet escape leaving your lips. It trying to bury itself between your two mouths open, breathing it in.

“Guess you’ll have to swipe something else.”

He snorts, and buries it into your neck, teeth grazing your skin—nose catching the scent of your perfume. And the scent almost makes him dizzy from how his blood rushes south. How the moment he’d dropped you off for your flight, it had lingered in the cabin of his truck. Remaining there for the first few days you were gone, before slowly fading. Leaving.

Just there on the coat you'd hung near the door and the pillows he slept beside.

The ones he rested his head against when he’d heard your voice down the phone, tell me to touch myself, Frankie, I need you. His own hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it as you moaned his name, all those miles away, dripping instructions into your ear.

“You're such a dirty girl.”

You grin in response, fingers tugging at his curls—urging his mouth back to yours.

But, he instead traces his tongue over your pulse, circling it, all defiant in bowing to you as his teeth trace over his path. Instead, his finger dips, traces the crease of your thigh with his gaze never leaving yours.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

His hand slides between your thighs, cupping you—feeling the discernible wetness soaked through.

“Can feel it.”

You scoff, but he kisses it away.

Doing so in a similar way to how he makes you forget, how he pulls you from your mind and brings you to the present. It’s also swallowed by another gasp, one made because of his fingers finding the edge of the lace, hooking a finger underneath, sliding the pad of his thumb against your swollen nerves and slick entrance.

"So wet for me," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the whine you emit. “Feelin’ needy, querida?”

And he can’t take his eyes off you.

Practically locked in, watching as your lips part, and your hips try to shift for more friction. He’s too fearful he’ll miss it, all of it—a slight curve of a brow or a shimmer on your eyes. All things he thinks over when he dreams, when he wishes for replays of moments until the next day when he makes another that easily replaces a good one.

He likes how you say his name when he slips another finger inside you—how it falls all soft, breathless. So much intention in such a low sound. Even as you squirm, mouth pausing over his; little mewls and moans falling as he drags them in and out, all languorous, teasing.

“Want you.”

His thumb brushes over your swollen clit, a hiss escaping. “I know.”

You gasp his name, stifle a moan, teeth biting down on the underside of your lower lip as your lashes flutter. It’s your nails digging into his scalp that keeps him rooted, that keeps him focused—precise touches and strokes that have you rocking against him and keep him tuned in to you.

“Missed how you sound, baby. You're doing so well.”

You’re close. His words make your perfect pussy clench around him. A chorus of moans escaping as he curls them inside of you, finds that spot, the one which makes you babble and turns your muscles into liquid.

He likes that he can do this.

That he can read you and undo you. That it’s a thing he’s mastered when he’d thought he was far from learning. But then, he’d taken great pride in spending hours studying—in alternating between being on his back and on his knees.

And because of that, he knows when he halt you over the edge. Let you linger, not tipping.

Normally, he’d never tease, never make you want—but, today is a different kind of day as he stops. As he retracts his fingers and allows the fabric to lightly snap back into place.

It’s a different whine that cuts into the room then. It pours out from your lips as your eyes dig daggers into him—but, he knows you.

Knows it’s momentary and nothing he can’t fix. Able to hold his ground against it, digging heels into the floor—all refusing to be swayed by the storm rising inside of you, creeping across the formerly tranquil sea. Instead, his hands move to his belt—undoing it, metal clanging and zip sliding down as your eyes break from glaring to stare hungrily at the outline of his cock.

Watching as you walk backwards, the back of your knees hitting the bed before you’re perching—eyes holding his, tip of your tongue sweeping, tracing, as you move further up the bed. The one you’d picked—chosen.

He’s in a trance.

Under a spell when you hook a thumb on either side of your underwear.

It’s not smooth, it doesn’t glide or remove with ease—there’s even a slight kick out of your legs before it flings from your ankle. But, it makes him tighten the hold on his cock. Because it may not be a thing people ever see on TV or in movies, but then they never feel like this.

They don’t feel real, no rawness, no tangling of his trousers he has to step out of as he strokes himself, eyes flicking down to where you’re bare—where you’re glistening—

“Wanna ride you, Frank.”

He sucks in a shuddering breath, hands gripping the base of his cock.

It’s slow, the way he grazes his teeth over his lower lip. “S’that how you wanna pay me, yeah?”

“All I’ve thought about,” you reply, a soft smile greeting him. “Lemme ride you—wanna look at you, wanna watch you come, baby.”

Fuck. He doesn’t fight it.

Instead, letting you guide him, allowing you to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw when he kneels on the bed and groans—because it’s been a long day, querida; he’s not as young as he once was.

“Still know how to be good, though. Don’t you?” you smirk, open mouth leaving a trail down his neck, eyes flicking up when you leave one in the space above his heart.

Hands behind his head, admiring, doing nothing but watching you place your thighs on either side of his as your fingers wrap around his wrists. You pin him, pressing down—aching cock ignored, left to leak against his hip as your lips press to his, over and over, and over until he’s chasing for the feel of them when you pull back.

You only offer a gentle, "I missed you," against the air before you're lining him up, bearing down, sinking, taking him in as he paints a groan against your collarbone.

There’s a beat, maybe two.

Stillness, enveloped entirely by your walls as his mouth wraps itself around your breast, leaving it wet, coated in spit as he groans when you begin to move. Setting a rhythm, slow.

“Not rushing this, Frankie.”

He never wishes you to.

His hands gripping your hips, guiding you. Head falling back onto the sheets as his breath hitches, the sight of you atop him, breasts bouncing—owning him—is a sight he could never grow tired of. One he also never feels worthy of—but he won’t squander, won’t ruin.

Because you’re perfect, head to toe—pussy made for him as it strokes up and down and breaths leave your mouth in short pants.

“Y’so good to me, Frankie. So handsome.”

And he wants to tell you that it's you who is so good—who is nothing but colour in an otherwise grey world. That you’re sunshine and stars, moon and so much more goodness than he can list buried inside of you.

“Go on, querida,” he grunts through clenched teeth, hands squeezing your hips a little tighter as you move a little faster.

As you take a little more. It makes your eyes flutter, parts your lips—watching in nothing short of awe as you use him, as you lose yourself in the moment.

"That's it, just let go. Make yourself feel good.”

It’s something majestic when he sees you nearing release—when he feels you clench and flutter.

“Feels good, y’feel good inside me baby.”

“You need more?”

And you nod.

The green light—the sign—and he doesn’t wait a moment.

Just canting his hips up, making a rush of pleasure spread up his spine. He’s lightheaded, hot—practically dizzy with how good you feel enveloped around him.

The noises filling the air, your slick walls taking him and the sound of skin slapping against skin. It’s drowned by the noises he pulls from you, making a mess of you as your lust-blown eyes land on him.

It almost steals his breath. Thieves it.

Because you’re so pretty, wild—a fucking dream on top of him. All soft and shimmering with perspiration from how good you ride him as he’s bathed in whines, moans and cries of his name.

“You're perfect,” he says, hand clamping on your hip as he shifts, and angles himself before thrusting up into you—watching your eyes squeeze shut. “From your smile to your tight pussy. You know that?”

Studying you as you try to keep the same rhythm. But, you’re nearing your climax—nails digging into his shoulder and neck, half-moons etched there, and he hopes they take hours to disappear.

“Thought about you all week—”

You moan, eyes meeting his. “Thought about you too—missed you. Missed how good you make me feel.”

“Fucked my fist to the thought of you like this. Never thought—fuck—I’d come home to this, baby. Y’fuckin’ perfect.”

Your chin lifts, neck elongating as he spreads his palm across your side, fingers pressing, grasping.

“Love hearing how much you missed me,” he smirks, watching you—thinking nothing but revolving thoughts as to how pretty you look, what a picture you are on top of him—

Then he hears a slam. Heavy boots. A voice he'd rather not hear at all:

“Fish? You home?”

He stops, realisation slamming into him.

A hand drops to the bedsheets, grasping them so hard his knuckles pale, and throb—the bones in his hand aching as he fights shouting and blowing his load right there and then.

The plans he’d made—the ones he’d put into place because you weren’t supposed to be home—all coming back to bite him. How he hadn’t wanted to spend another night alone, another evening in front of the television until you could call and tell him about your day—when he should have. He really fucking should have.

And you’re frozen, hips halted in place—his other hand remaining on your waist, fingers digging in as you both tense, keeping movements paused.

He considers it, the two choices he has and decides.

Leaning more against you—half-grinning, whispering shh as you look at him full of alarm—suddenly aware of the impending actuality that you could be caught like this.

And, then you clench around him. He feels it. Head tilting and eyes narrowing as he takes you in.

"Dirty girl," he mouths, and you look bashful, shy—a look he rarely sees when you’re split open on his cock and the base of him is covered in your slick.

“Fish, where the fuck are you?”

“Getting changed Ben, be a min.”

Your pussy flutters around him at your shout, as he moves to not shout the words towards your ear—feeling you clamp down, muffling a whimper. Another falls as he lifts up further onto his palm, dragging his nose down the valley between your breasts.

He knows you’re close—teetering, a few more thrusts and you’d have unravelled.

Dropping his voice, low—barely above a whisper, “Shh, baby. Or, I won’t let you finish.”

“Fuck,” you hiss. “Can‘t, Frankie—I can’t.”

He nods, finger and thumb holding your chin because he knows you can. Seen you do so much, and been witness to what you’re capable of—before his hand guides your hips to begin moving, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hips.

“Touch yourself for me, querida. Be good for me.”

And you whimper, something akin to his name.

But he’s guiding his mouth away, shouting, “Beers in the fridge, Ben.”

His mouth presses to your chest, hearing the shout from his friend back, but it’s the sound of your fingers on your slick and swollen clit that he tunes into. That he wants to flood his ears. Watching you shiver, shake, tremble from it as you tighten around him, choking his cock as he begins to thrust in and out.

He could keep you here. Should do too.

One week has already been too long. A need to make up for it—to have you pay for all the times you ask him those questions you wait until the lights are usually out for and he’s about to tip over to sleep; have you press yourself against him, nudging your ass into him as you cuddle, but really you want his mouth between your thighs. He should edge you, hang you over the edge of pleasure and watch your eyes dig into him until your lips whisper the word beginning with P.

But he won’t.

Couldn’t.

He likes knowing he pleases you too much.

Your moan bringing him back to it. Seeing how your eyes are clenched shut, trying to keep it behind your teeth. Failing, expletives dropping in breaths before he raises his hand, pressing it to your mouth, muffling it, the moans you have to release before you shake your head and fold into him.

Suddenly, he wants to move the dresser and lock the two of you in here. Wants to let them watch whatever fucking sports they want out there, and him just watch you in here.

You’re his favourite sight, after all. Especially like this. Free, not overthinking or worrying, just present, feeling as good as you should—as good as he always wants you to feel.

And you deserve this.

Hearing the low please fall before he plants his feet down, angling his cock up into you as you let out a muffled gasp. His palm flat to your shoulder, steadying you, as he feels your fingers slide it to your collarbone, resting it, fingers an inch away from the base of your neck.

You flick your eyes open—smothering him in permission, in radiant sunshine and lust, before the softest fucking smirk graces your lips—as his own mouth chokes out your name.

“Not tonight.”

It’s less words, and more a noise.

Because he’s close too—it having risen close to the top. Toes clenched around the sheets, digging in.

But he wants to feel you come first. And it’s there—that familiar sign. Lashes fluttering, gorgeous mouth going tight, slack as you tighten around him, locking up, clamping down as your hips move sloppily and out of rhythm.

You’re so fucking close.

“Shh, be good for me.”

Fingers, trembling and weak, slide around the base of his neck, tugging on his curls that are likely slick with sweat.

“N‘gonna last—let go for me baby.”

“Please.”

“Come for me.”

Spearing up into you with more vigour as you rasp, groan, and hiss—spit coating his fingers as he slides them out, dropping his hand from you as his knuckles press to the mattress as he fucks up into you.

Your body bucks, a cry you bury into his neck—a drag of nails against his scalp—as you come undone around him. Convulsing. Muffled cries vibrating against his pulse.

Frankie is barely able to contain the low growl as his hips stutter—heat raging through him, joined by rabid electricity. It sparking, ripping through, making him both ache and feel alive.

The sight of you and the feel of you drives him to the edge—and then over. A grip on your hip all tight as he thrusts into you one final time, unable to contain the growl. His chest heaves as he spills inside of you, and you tremble against him—panting, all messy and boneless as he pulls you with him as he rolls onto his back.

"You're incredible," he breathes into your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck.

You let out a small laugh, a soft, content sigh escaping your lips. "So are you."

He smiles against your skin, his heart swelling with affection. He may have assumed he'd seen everything, but you—you continue to surprise him, to captivate him in ways he never thought possible. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Pulling his mouth from yours, feeling you ease him out of you, his hand lightly slaps you on the back of your bare ass.

"I missed you, querida," he murmurs, heart still racing in his chest.

Meeting his gaze, your lips purse. "I know," you whisper, leaning in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "I'm here now."

“Shame you’ll have to sneak out the back and come in through the front door. Otherwise, you’ll be in here all night—”

His words trail off, a sly grin tugging at his lips as it dawns, rises up over your face and makes your mouth fall open. “Francisco….”

“Shoulda' told me you were coming home. It's boys night.”

Narrowing your eyes, you tick your jaw—spine straightening. “Well, I could stay in here—like this…”

Smirking, he kisses your nose. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby.”

Your mouth opens, a smirk gracing his lips in response as he raises a finger to his mouth, moving and pressing a kiss to your knee. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Easy Money

Derek Danforth x AFAB!Reader

Summery: Minimum wage is a joke these days and we've all gotta make rent somehow. And who knew blonds could be so fun?

Tags: AFAB/Female pronouns reader, no use of y/n, voyeurism, sex worker!Reader, drug use (marijuana), sex while high, drinking, cursing, bisexual Reader, fetish party, reader plays with several people, tempature play/improper use of ice cubes, sex toys, possessive!Derek, dick piercing (I will not debate this,) face fucking, breast play, oral sex (male recieving), thigh riding, cock warming, cowgirl and doggy position, praising, pet names, edging, rough sex, spanking, vaginal fingering, degradation, dumbification if you squint, dacrophillia. There is no plot. This is just porn. Straight up.

Notes: Y'all begged to me, now y'all begging to your man. You're welcome. Also, please consume substances responsibly. Do NOT assume an edible ain't shit. They ALWAYS are.

                       •°○《▪︎��▪︎》○°•

The gig is simple. Stand there and look pretty.

The woman who had hired all of us was very clear on the rules; serve drinks, talk to the men, don't have a brain, and if Derek Danforth gives you an ounce of attention, you return it. Sex was optional, but they pay less if you do not engage.

I was just there for the check. Times are hard, but this dress is easy to fit into... if I don't breathe. Jesus, it's tight.

The architecture of the mansion is beautiful. Really, if I wasn't working this party I'd be studying every room for an hour each. High ceilings, detailed woodwork. It's a shame it's all bathed in purple blacklights with everyone wearing neon glowsticks.

The people in attendance are in various states of undress. Some wear their clothes fully, some wear nothing at all. Most are in various states of undress, including the waitresses.

All of our dresses are the same- tight, black, and an easily detachable top with nipple pasties underneath in the shape of blacklight activated glow stars. It's tacky, but the girls who have removed their tops are getting way more tips. And with the debt I'm in, plus the security making absolute sure no camera are recording anything, what's the harm in if I join them? It's more money for me.

The various trays contain different things. Some drinks or shots, others different foods. Then there's the drugs. Oh yes. Cocaine, pills, capped needles on at least one tray I noticed. On mine are several marijuana joints, blunts and even edibles. Our employer had told us we were allowed to indulge, but any damages caused due to our inebriation would come out of our check.

Edibles usually aren't shit for me, so I feel quite safe.

A strawberry cube is tucked safely under my tongue, taking a long while to melt. I can feel my muscles relaxing, making me smile more to the guests as I work my way through the crowd. The beginning gentle buzz helps me to forget the way these people leer at me, some even reaching over to touch me before retracting their hands quickly.

"These guests are quite used to casual sex," the woman had informed us. "There's a code here. You'll each have a pendant around your neck. Depending on the color you choose it will inform them of your preference. Red is for looking only, green means you're okay with sexual touch. It's up to your verbal communication if that touch leads to penetration."

The party was tacky, but at least consent was key.

My color currently is red. It will take more of this edible for anything to change. And currently I see no one making the trouble worth it, anyways.

Right now, anyways.

A man with bright, blond tipped hair and a loud outfit works his way through the crowd. Laughing and speaking with some, taking in the different women serving different items. There's a confident swagger in his walk, one that normally I would scoff at when sober. But with the melting cube quickly joining my bloodstream, I simply stare curiously. It's unintentional, honestly. But he takes notice, narrowing his eyes in reciprocated curiosity before making his way over.

"You're new," he says. I offer him the tray.

"I don't know what you mean," I say politely. He picks up a large blunt, taking out his own lighter instead of using one of the complementary ones on the tray. He takes a long pull, shoving the item back into his snakeskin jacket pocket that doesn't match his zebra print, silk looking button up with black leather pants.

"The other girls have been working here for awhile. Who brought you here?" He asks after taking a long pull, holding it.

"Riley," I answer. He nods, exhaling.

"She's worked here a couple years. You two close?" He asks.

Not particularly. "We're friends," I answer. He smiles a bit, taking another hit.

"You like the party?" He asks.

"I like the lighting," I answer. "And I can't say no to free edibles."

"You take some?" He asks. In answer I scoop the edible onto my tongue and stick it out for him to see. "Good girl, that shit will make you relaxed."

"How much is it?" I ask curiously. Can't be too much, surely.

"Told my guys to pick up 1000mgs," he answers, taking another hit.

... what?

My confusion must be obvious.

"You not used to that?" He chuckles, leaning against the wall next to me.

"I induldge regularly, just... lower amounts," I answer. He exhales, laughing.

"You'll have fun then. Especially if you change your color to green, but that's completely up to you," he says. There's a moment of silence between us before I speak up.

"Nice outfit," I say. He raises a brow at me.

"Yeah?" He asks, scanning me up and down. "I think I prefer yours."

"It matches better, that's for sure," I say. He laughs, then sticks out his hand, his smile confident.

"I'm Derek, by the way."

"Ah," I say. Derek.

Derek!

"Nice to meet you, Mister Danforth," I say, accepting his hand. It's warm and large, strong against mine.

"I don't want to hear Mister out of you unless you change colors, pretty girl," he says, squeezing my hand. I feel myself smiling, heart fluttering a little.

"And what would happen if I did change it, Mister?" I ask politely. His grin widens.

"Well, with the way you look already I'd say people would have a fun time with you," he says, stepping closer. "I wouldn't mind a taste myself. I like my girls warmed up, though."

"Warmed up?" I ask, raising my brow.

"I'll tell you what," he says. "You're welcome to leave your tray anywhere, as I'm sure they've told you. You can change your color to green, enjoy your edible and just let the crowd guide you to me. I promise they will." His eyes roam over me, taking me in with a hungry gaze, his mind distracted by obvious thoughts. I wonder how well his shoulders would hold me.

Shit. He's right, this is strong. The herbal smell on his breath is inviting, and I'm already leaning in. Plus, his outfit is beginning to make visually stimulating sense.

"Isn't it polite for a host to show his guest around?" I ask, batting my lashes. I can feel my eyes drying out, my cheeks buzzing and my body beginning to feel the bass of the music just a little bit more than I was a second ago.

"It is, pretty girl," Derek says, taking another hit. "But you're not a guest, are you?"

No, I'm not. I begin to pull away when his hand catches my pendant.

"You want me to get that for you?" He asks, exhaling through his nose.

"Yes sir," I answer with a smile, placing my tray carefully on the table beside me.

"Good girl," he praises, changing the color with a quick flick of his thumb. "You'll fit in just fine."

Before I can respond, his lips attach to my neck, sucking earnestly and harshly. I can't help the small cry that escapes me, my hand finding his hair and burying itself in it as he pins me against the wall.

His hand cups my breast, kneeding it carefully as he creates patterns across my skin with his mouth, licking at the newly bruised flesh before moving on to a new, unmarked area. He holds his blunt up for me, trying to keep it still enough to allow me to take a hit. I accept, holding his hand steady by the wrist, inhaling as much as I can.

His lips detach from my throat, his eyes red and glazed over as his lips graze mine.

"Care to share?" He asks lowly, his fingers still tweaking at my nipple. I'm vaguely aware that my pasties have been removed, where they've gone to I've no clue.

Obediently, I blow the smoke into Derek's mouth, his hand leaving my breast to cup my jaw, holding my mouth open with his large thumb. Once I'm done he takes his own hit, holding it for a moment before pressing his lips against mine, sealing them together before blowing the smoke into my mouth as well. His tongue slides against mine, tasting of whiskey and smoke. I don't hate the way it blends with the sweet, surgery strawberry cube still melting under my tongue.

He pulls away slightly, breathing heavily.

"You taste sweet," he says. "Mind if I try some?"

"Go ahead," I answer. I expect him to take an edible from the tray, but instead he leans in again, his tongue searching for the half melted candy. He finds it under my tongue, slipping it onto his and then pulling away, smiling in satisfaction.

"Oh," I breathe, batting my lashes in surprise.

"I'll trade you," he says, pressing a small kiss to my cheek as he passes the blunt to me. "Just let the crowd lead you, sweet girl. I'll see you in a bit."

Before I can even think of a response, he slips amongst the crowd, gone in the blink of a hazy eye.

Alright. This is fine. Great, actually. I take a hit of the sour tasting blunt and begin walking amongst the crowd.

Derek was right, I am an eye catcher. Or maybe these people aren't particularly picky. But it doesn't take long at all before people are touching me, sliding their hands over my hips as I pass by, stopping me for a moment to press me against their bodies, leaving a mark or three on my skin. The attention makes my mind blank, smiles on my lips as I whisper 'thank you's, the patrons slipping tips into the tight pockets of my skirt as they release me, letting me blend into the crowd once more until someone else catches me.

I should be revolted, I know this. But the people aren't hard to look at, and with as much as I have flowing through my system all I can really think about is how amazing I feel. My joints feel like air is passing straight through them, my head feels light and free of racing thoughts. The lights entrance me, making me easily distractable until a woman guides me gently towards her group, placing me on her lap as she talks with what I'm guessing are work colleagues. Or something. Fuck if I care.

Her hand strokes my back carefully, not speaking to me as I continue hitting my almost burnt out blunt. She glances at me from time to time, smiling sweetly as she watches me.

"Can I have some?" The older woman asks gently. Her lips are painted a dark black, revealing white teeth underneath. Her features are sharp, contoured by heavy makeup. Her hair is shaggy and black, and God, she's... broad. Muscular and looking like she could eat me alive. I wouldn't mind if she tried.

I hand her the last little bit, letting her have what remains as I begin to focus on her hair. It's soft, feeling amazing between my fingers.

"You have anywhere you need to be for the rest of the night?" She asks, her voice deep.

"Derek," I breathe, barely focusing. She and the other women amongst her let out a noise of recognition, some even laughing a little.

"He likes his girls pent up," Another says, nodding. "Says he likes them used, but we all know that's not true."

"Derek likes to go for hours," warns a woman with blue hair that glows in the blacklight. "Hope you have a lot of energy saved up. If he likes you, you won't go home for days."

The woman with black hair is finishing the blunt, flicking away the last little bit and letting it land wherever.

"You mind if we help you?" She asks.

"No," I answer, my hands running over her broad, leather covered shoulders. "I don't mind."

The women aw over me, moving closer and touching different parts of me.

"Focus on my thigh, good girl," says the dark haired one. "Just rock yourself against it and let me know when you're close." She turns to the second woman, nodding her head towards me. "You want to taste her?"

The second woman nods, joining me on her lap and grinding herself against the first woman's other thigh before bending over to wrap her lips around my nipple, moaning as she does.

The third woman, the one with blue hair, simply watches, continuing to talk to the dark haired woman, stroking my back as she does. The first woman seems engaged in the conversation, occasionally sucking on my other breast before responding to the blue haired woman. The second woman is fully engrossed in tasting me, sucking and nipping at my breast eagerly, moaning as she does.

The stimulation feels amazing, my head tilted back as I rock on the dark haired woman's thigh, my body feeling things it never has before. The feeling of two women sliding their tongues across my sensitive nipples, sucking on them at the same time at different paces is almost enough on its own to make me cum. I can feel how wet I am even through my underwear, surely staining the first woman's clothes.

"Shit, Ava. She may not make it to Derek at this point," laughs the blue haired woman. The first woman, Ava, simply smiles, admiring me.

"Should we let you cum, good girl? Or do you want Derek?" She asks, bouncing her leg as she does.

I moan loudly, my mind unable to form a response. This is lovely, just absolutely wonderful. But something tells me that if I waited, if I edged myself like Derek seemed to prefer, then I would be well rewarded.

"Wait," I pant, still rocking my hips against her thigh. The three women groan, laughing a little more as they begin to give me space.

"You think she's good enough for him?" Ava asks the second woman.

"If she's not, he's out of his mind," she says, tearing herself away from my breast and standing to move onto the blue haired woman's lap instead.

Ava guides me off of her before standing tall and admittedly terrifying. She pulls me up gently, taking my hand and leading me through the room. "Follow me, sweet girl," she says. "I'll take you to the main event."

The other two women wave at me, smiling wickedly before turning their focus onto each other. As the drugs begin to hit harder, just a little ways from my peak, I begin to wonder what it is I've really gotten myself into.

A pair of double doors reveal the same dyed blond man on a plush couch, lounging lazily as he speaks to a small group of people in the private lounge. Upon seeing me guided into the room, he smiles eagerly, quickly sitting up.

"I told you you'd find me," he says, setting his whiskey glass in front of him on the small, glass table.

I smile warmly at him, trying to keep my balance as I walk around to him.

"You get her all ready for me, Ava?" He asks, gently placing his hands on my hips and guiding me to sit on his lap, my back pressed against his chest.

"I did," the woman says, joining us. "She's pretty pent up."

"Did she get you pent up, pretty girl?" Derek asks, laughing softly. I can feel the blush in my cheeks, my eyes barely able to stay open as I lean my head back onto his shoulder.

"Feel her if you don't believe me," Ava offers. Derek obliges, dipping his hand between my thighs, pushing my thin panties to the side.

"Fuck," he groans. "You weren't kidding."

Derek guides my legs to spread open, one hand keeping me open for everyone to watch as his other hand explores my vulva.

"Don't worry about everyone else," he whispers in my ear. "We're all just here for a good time. Right, pretty girl?"

I nod, moaning as his finger swirls around my clit. He continues speaking to his friends, drinking casually as his hand toys with me.

"You want some?" He asks, offering me the glass. I shake my head. I'm fucked up enough.

"Water?" He asks. At that I nod, and with the quick snap of his fingers it only takes a blink before he's holding a water in front of me, complete with ice cubes inside.

"Go ahead," he says. "Take a drink."

I obediently lean forward, placing my bottom lip on the edge as Derek tips the water into my mouth. It's soothing at first, my body relishing the cold rush it gives me. Derek's hand glides up and down my folds, teasing my entrance.

"You like the cold?" Derek asks. I try to respond, forgetting the glass in front of me. The water spills down onto my body, freezing and making me cry out in shock at the sudden sensation.

Derek and his friends laugh, his lips pressing soothing kisses along my shoulder blade.

"I'm sorry, were you not ready for that?" He asks sweetly, smiling at me. I shake my head. He places the glass on the table in front of us, collecting a couple of ice cubes before leaning back and adjusting me to face him.

"Let's get you prepped then, yeah?" He asks, popping one into his mouth and chewing.

My eyes widen, mouth opening in question just before Derek wraps his own lips around my nipples, sucking gently and swirling the quickly chewed cube around the hard bud.

"Fuck!" I cry, leaning backwards. Ava catches me, stroking my hair as she watches.

"I knew he'd like you," Ava says in my ear. "He likes breaking in the new girls personally."

Derek's fingers tease my entrance, threatening to dip in while he sucks on my breast, moaning around the cold flesh. He swirls his spit around, rubbing my clit with his thumb.

"You taste amazing," he moans, his breath cold. "Love to taste more."

I moan happily, spreading my legs more and bucking against his hand.

"Take me," I moan. "Do whatever you want."

"Jesus, she's excited," he laughs. "How long has it been, sweet girl?"

Too long. Much too long.

It must be obvious based on the way he trails lower, kissing and sucking on my skin as he begins to slip my skirt and underwear off of my lower body.

"Is this okay?" He asks, looking up at me expectantly. I nod eagerly, rolling my hips towards him impatiently.

"I don't think she likes teasing, Derek," Ava comments.

"No?" He laughs. "Do you like teasing, sweet girl?"

I shake my head slightly, whining. He and Ava laugh, Derek placing a kiss on my stomach.

"Well, I don't want to go too fast, new girl," he says. "Could break you, you know."

"No you won't," I whine. Derek sucks sharply on the spot, leaving a dark mark.

"Gonna have to teach her a thing or two, aren't I, Ava?" He asks. "You know where that toy is?"

"What toy?" I ask.

"Don't you worry about a thing, pretty girl," Derek instructs. "I'm gonna take care of everything for you now. Just relax."

Ava removes herself from the couch, disappearing to look for something. As I'm distracted, Derek slips an ice cube into my warm cunt.

"Ah!" I cry out sharply, arching my back as my hips roll automatically, unsure what to do to relieve myself. "It's cold."

Derek simply laughs, sitting up straight and dragging me onto his thick thigh.

"It's supposed to be," he says mockingly. "That'll work in the meantime while we wait for Ava to come back."

I start to grind against his thigh, my cunt clenching around the cold cube rapidly as I feel the melting water begin to drip out of me. Derek pulls my hair, tutting his tongue against his teeth as he shakes his head.

"Stay still, that's an order," he says sharply. Someone offers him a cigarette, which he takes with no hesitation. When someone offers me one as well, he waves them away.

"She's had enough," he says. He keeps his hand in my hair, keeping a close eye on me to make sure I don't move.

"You enjoying the party?" He asks me.

"Yes," I say.

"Yes what?" He asks, taking a drag.

"Yes, sir?" I say. He smiles.

"Good. You're smart." He turns his attention to a man asking about some account, rambling something about bitcoin and such. Ugh. I don't know why I'm surprised.

I keep my hands clasped behind my back, pressing my chest forward to allow him easy access. This pleases him, his smile growing genuine whenever he glances my way. Once he bounces his leg, making me squirm for more. At that, he pulls my hair, shaming me for breaking the rule.

"Behave," he commands sharply. A few minutes later, however, he bounces his leg again. This time he doesn't stop.

The jolting motion sends shockwaves through my system, the drugs making me weak and stupid. He's not watching me, seeming involved in the conversation, and this ice cube is nearly melted inside of my cunt, dripping more and more. I can't handle this.

I shift my hips subtly, testing the waters. He doesn't notice, and if he does he doesn't care. I do it again, slightly harder against his thigh. Derek is talking about some party in Havana, laughing about a different conquest. I work slowly, making sure he won't turn his eye onto me. Finally, after a few minutes of grinding against him, I feel confident enough to begin a slow, steady rhythm against his thigh, his leg still bouncing against me.

My body feels amazing. Light, stimulation pounding throughout me, it only takes a few minutes before I'm on edge again, my pussy making his thigh slick and easy to grind against as I ride him. My cheeks burn with heat, my eyes eyes fluttering shut as I lose myself in the rhythm, fully focused on how hard his leg is bouncing. The vibrations go right to my clit, making my pussy seize around nothing now as my pulsing heat had caused the cube to disappear. I begin to grind faster and faster, desperate to cum. I don't realize I've begun panting, moaning as I ride him, and the attention in the room has turned towards me in full with Derek rubbing his hand up and down my back slowly, grazing his nails across the skin of my back as he watches with a look that makes him look like the cat who ate the canary.

"You close, sweet girl?" He asks me. My blush deepens, my eyes fluttering open in realization. Derek simply quirks a brow at me, exhaling his smoke into my face as he waits for my answer. My hips stutter, hesitating to continue.

"Don't get shy," Derek scolds. "You were just fine fucking yourself a moment ago. What's a few dozen people watching you?" He asks.

People are chuckling now, making small comments of encouragement.

"You looked so pretty, baby. Fucking yourself stupid on my thigh," he says as his lips tease my tits. "Didn't she look pretty, everyone?" He asks the room, glancing around at the people who respond with affirmations.

I lean forward, trying to hide my face in the crook of his neck. What had I been doing? In front of this entire room? I'd just needed a few quick bucks, that's all this was supposed to be. This was exponentially further than I'd ever planned.

Derek tuts, pulling me away from my hiding place. "Oh no, you wanted to cum. I'm going to make sure you cum," he chides. "I wonder how you'd feel on my cock. Would you like that? You'd feel better if you were on my cock, wouldn't you?"

I nod shyly, my eyes avoiding everyone but Derek. He glances around the room once more, noises of encouragement growing louder.

"You wanna get me ready, baby?" He asks encouragingly, taking one of my hands from behind my back and guiding it to his stiff, clothed cock.

I gasp lightly, squeezing it and grazing my thumb up and down his dick covered by the tight, leather material.

"You look big," I mutter.

"Feel big too," he chuckles. "Go on, try it out. I think you'll like it."

I think I will.

It's hard to see in the odd lighting, so my hands struggle with the hidden zipper.

"Try getting closer," Derek teases, his breath warm against my ear. "It doesn't bite like I do." To emphasize his point, he sinks his teeth into my neck, harsh and quick before releasing me, leaning back in his chair. The sudden movement makes me dizzy, my mind reeling as I automatically sink to my knees in front of the plush, velvet sofa.

Once his pants are opened, he springs out, no underwear confining him. Jesus. He's mostly average, leaning towards the larger side. It's mostly the piercing that surprises me.

"Like it?" He asks. I glance up at him, his grin cocky as he takes a drag from his new cigarette. Hey, man. What happens if I swallow this?

I stammer, opening my mouth and trying to say something.

"You need help?" He asks, wrapping his hand decorated with several rings around his shaft. "Open your mouth again," he commands. I do so without hesitation. His other hand guides my head down, forcing me to swallow it halfway down. I moan in satisfaction, my eyes slowly shutting as I take in the taste of his skin.

"Atta girl. Take a minute if you need to," he says casually. I can smell the thick smoke near my head, his hand stroking my hair gently. Ava must have returned because he's telling someone how warm my mouth is.

"You ready, sweetheart?" He asks. "Wanna show you off for my friends."

Taking a deep breath and opening my eyes once more, I lower myself slowly to his base. He's just long enough that when his piercing collides with my uvula I cough, nearly choking on him. More gentle laughter escapes the crowd, Derek praising me as he begins to thrust into my mouth.

"Just stay there, sweetheart," he says. "I'll do the work."

True to his word, Derek begins pumping his dick in and out of my mouth, whispering something in Ava's ear. I begin taking in the other people around the room, most of them watching us eagerly.

"Watch me, sweetheart," he commands, snapping his fingers and pointing at himself. "You don't have anywhere to look but here."

I obey, keeping my eyes trained on him as he smokes his cigarette which rests between his lips, his jaw gritted as he rolls his hips into my throat, his eyes glazed over in pleasure and who knows what else.

Without warning, someone begins fingering my cunt. A startled moan escapes me, vibrating around Derek's throbbing cock and making him moan, his face confident.

"Don't worry baby, it's just Ava," he says, stroking my hair. "You like Ava, right?"

I moan again, Ava's fingers quick and shallow in my tight pussy.

"Ava certainly likes you. Almost stole you from me, isn't that right?" He asks her, tapping his cherry carelessly onto the floor behind him.

"That's right," her deep voice purrs in my ear. I moan again, my eyes almost fluttering shut from pleasure until Derek grabs my hair, fucking my face roughly to bring my attention back to him.

"Hey now, don't get too happy," he scolds, but he's smiling. "You still like me more, right baby?"

I moan, pressing my tongue to his underside as he slides in and out. He tastes sweet, his jewelry creating an interesting feeling in the back of my throat. Ava withdraws her fingers, quickly replacing them with a vibrating bullet instead.

"Mmph!" I moan, my eyes nearly fluttering shut again. The speed increases, making me drip and writhe my hips against nothing.

"God, she's fun," Derek moans. "Ava, book her for Cabo," he says.

Cabo??

"You like her that much?" Ava laughs. Derek simply glares at her. Is this a thing? Trading girls, fighting over them? What is this?

"Just fucking talk to whoever about it," he spits, his dick quickening in my throat. I'm gagging around him, barely able to catch my breath as I press my hands desperately against his thighs. "Anyone else fuck her tonight?"

"Don't know," Ava shrugs. She brings her face close to mine, her breath hot in my ear. "Did they?"

I moan, trying to shake my head. Derek nods, smiling.

"Perfect," he drawls. The bullet inside of me is driving me insane, enough to keep me on the edge of pleasure but not enough to tip me over. My eyes look up at him, wide and begging, tears beginning to spill from my waterline and streaming down my face.

"You're killing her," Ava scolds him. "Is he being mean?" She asks me. Yes.

"She can take it," Derek says. "You like it a little mean, don't you baby?" He asks, smiling. Yes.

"See?" Derek says. "She's just fine."

Actually, I'm about to hit my peak drug wise, and I can't fucking breathe. But all it does is make me want more, my throat taking him as deep as I can as I moan around him, my tongue moving desperately, eager to swallow his load.

"Think I should cum down her throat?" He asks Ava, his head tilted back in pleasure, cigarette nearly burnt out between his lips.

"Would you like that?" Ava asks, setting the speed of the bullet to max. I scream around Derek's cock, overstimulated and stupid. "I think that's a yes."

"God, you're amazing," he praises. "Such a perfect fucking slut."

Right before he reaches his edge, he pulls me away, admiring the long, thick string of spit that still connects my swollen lips to his cock.

"Look at that," he says. "Should take a picture of that someday."

His hand drags me up by my hair, guiding me to return to his lap. Once I'm straddled across his lap, his fingers delve into my cunt, fucking me quickly as he presses the bullet against my g-spot.

"You like my cock, pretty girl?" He asks.

"Yes," I moan, my voice and throat raw.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent."

His fingers remove the bullet, and he quickly replaces his hand and bullet with his pulsing cock, both of us moaning at the feeling.

"Jesus, fuck," he moans. "You are fucking tight. I can feel everything."

My cunt spasms around him, eager for whatever friction he'll grant me. He stays still, something that's clearly a challenge for him.

"Gonna stay there for awhile," he says. "Wanna make sure you're ready, baby."

My spit on his dick makes for excellent lube, his piercing comfortable against my cervix. His hands run up and down my thighs, squeezing here and there, eventually moving to massage my ass.

"The crowd loves you," he praises, pulling me close to his chest. "Think I love you too."

I'm very high. I'm very horny. I will do whatever this fried hair, cocky ass motherfucker tells me to do.

A waitress walks behind the couch, offering us a tray of joints. Isn't that my job?

"Go ahead, take one," Derek instructs me. I do so, reaching for the lighter on the tray.

"Don't bother, I have one in my pocket. Thank you," he says to the waitress, dismissing her. He reaches into his coat, taking out the lighter before discarding the jacket, leaving him in his zebra printed button up that shows off his chest hair along with a white gold sparkling chain.

He holds the lighter for me, lighting up the joint as I hold it between my lips.

"You're gonna smoke me out, okay angel?" He says, leaning back against the couch, his arms stretched out along the back. I rest one hand against his chest, taking a hit and holding it for a second before leaning forward and blowing it into his mouth.

One of his hands find my hair, pressing my lips against his, his cock twitching inside of me as his tongue slips into my mouth, establishing dominance before allowing me to pull away for another hit. Then another. Then another.

As he inhales the last hit, his hips begin rolling into mine, his voice low as he groans.

"Go on and start riding me, angel," he moans, completely lost in the pleasure. "Show me how you want me."

My hands grasp his shoulders, clinging desperately as I begin to glide up and down his length, his cock twitching against my most sensitive spots with each glide.

"You ever fuck a pussy as good as this?" I ask, watching his jaw shift subtly from side to side as he focuses on my tightness.

"Oh, she speaks now?" He asks, smirking. "Grow a fucken brain, princess?"

His tip slams into my cervix, making me gasp and press my tits into his face. His mouth works quickly, biting and sucking at the tender mounds as I ride him.

"I'm just making conversation," I say. I'm high enough my filter is gone, my brain rotted to the point I'm only focused on my pleasure. He moans against my tit, looking up at me while he buries himself in my body.

"I can't say I have," he says, grinning. "Why, that turn you on?"

Immensely. Not that I'd tell him that.

"Say it," he dares, his cock slamming into me. "Don't hold out on me."

"Maybe I will," I tease, tugging his hair. My hips speed up, riding him hard enough I can feel the couch rocking ever so slightly.

"You're fun," he chuckles. "Say it."

"No," I say, slamming my wet cunt against his base, making him groan loudly.

His teeth sink into my skin, pulling on my nipple to the point I'm on the razors edge of pain and pleasure.

"I don't mind waiting," he says, his tongue flicking against my nipples. "I like causing pain."

His teeth sink in deeper, his fingernails dragging down my back slowly as he slams into me, making me bounce hard enough I can feel it in my stomach.

This is a hell of a paycheck.

"I like it," I say. He chuckles.

"That's not enough," he says.

"I wanna be the best girl you've fucked," I add.

"Mm, need more details." His teeth release my nipple, leaning forward and quickly catching it once more, sucking on the almost raw flesh hard enough it feels like I won't be able to wear a shirt for the next day or two. One of his hands return to my hair, gripping it and pulling it hard enough I can see the people behind us, some of them still watching, some focused on each other, most people switching between the two as they fuck each other.

"Come on, you were just so confident," he laughs against me before returning to his task. My chest burns with want and embarrassment, my eyes glazing over as I give in.

"I wanna make you pussy whipped," I moan. "I wanna glance at something and get it from how desperate you are to get the chance to fuck me."

He chuckles lowly. "I think we'll get along for a while," he says in a satisfied tone, finally releasing my tits from his torture.

"Gonna get me on payroll?" I ask, smiling as I throw my leg onto the back on the couch, giving him better access to fuck me.

"Play your cards right and I'll get my surname on you, pretty girl."

It's an evening of drugs and sex, come morning I'm sure he won't even remember my eye color. But for tonight, can't a bitch dream?

"Go ahead and laugh," he dares. "I get what I want."

"And you want me?"

"Fuck yeah."

He forces me to my side, turning me onto my stomach and hiking my ankles onto his shoulders.

"Jesus!" I cry, feeling his cock bury into me from behind, slamming straight into an overwhelming spot that makes me blind with pleasure.

"Too much," I cry. "Fuck, too much!"

"And that's a problem?" He laughs, abusing me as he smacks my ass, admiring the way my skin reddens.

"Yeah, you're not getting another dick ever again," he decides, his hips chasing after a high that tears screams from my throat. I'm so overstimulated I don't even know if I can cum, my eyes crossed and ass feeling his palm bearing down on the sensitive flesh time and time again, growing more rapid in succession, forcing me to clench his length harder with each new hit.

"Come on, pretty girl," he growls, pressing his chest against my back, his hands keeping my hips pressed against him with no chance to escape. His balls smack against my clit, making me moan in stupidity. "I know you want to."

I cry out, tears streaming down my face, hair stuck to my wet skin as I feel my cunt begin to throb in warning, my stomach clenching as the knot inside me begins to snap, my mind growing fuzzy and static as I pant eagerly.

"Fuck, she's close," Derek moans to someone, small whimpers escaping him as he pumps into me, his teeth digging into my shoulder, sending me over the edge.

Someone's screaming, and I have the vague idea it may be me. I can feel Derek's front soaked in my cum, his dick slamming into me in a way that I just know I'll have a migraine in a few minutes.

"Good girl," he praises. "Fuck. Amazing girl. Taking good dick like a fucking pro."

His cock throbs in me as he cums, deep and right next to my cervix, keeping himself buried as his seed pumps into me, hot and thick.

"I wasn't joking, sweetheart," he mutters in my ear, his voice exhausted. "You and I are going to become good, good friends."

I groan as I feel him slip out, his fingers pushing any cum that drips from my folds back into me, then placing a plug into my aching cunt. His hand grips my hair, pulling me back up to sit on his lap as he accepts a new drink, his cheeks flushed as he tries to regain his breath.

"Let's get something to get your energy back up, hmm?" He asks, pressing a firm kiss on my sweaty forehead.

▪︎《•☆•》▪︎

Cabo doesn't sound all that bad, Danforth. Not bad at all.

Masterlist

I wrote this instead of sleeping. Anyways, see you next time for Mike Schmidt. Stay safe pookies <3

[loverslodge]

invisible string

summery: you have married someone you have never seen, let alone met. but then you meet someone you fall in love with.

pairing: Ari Levinson x Reader

warnings: arranged marriage au, forced marriage au, angst, fluff, smut, a minor panic attack scene

A/N: ari levinson is such a bear! i cant keep my thoughts straight around him

“Congratulations! You are now officially married.” the lawyer shakes your hand and starts gathering the paperwork. You scoff and get up from the chair.

The only reason why you did this was because of your mother. She had made her best friend, Aunty Diana, a promise that if she ever had a girl, she would marry her to her son. Which shouldn't have been that bad if that son had bothered to acknowledge you. You were born when he was 10 so naturally, he already had his sets of friends to socialize with. You grew up knowing Aunty Diana but nothing more. You never knew their surname, their job, nothing. All you knew was that they were a very very very rich family. Diana had died last year due to some complications in her operation and your mother died years ago due to childbirth.

You could have avoided the marriage entirely, but conditions popped up, on both ends. They found legal documents signed by their mothers for their children to get married to each other or else. You were never told the or else condition, just shown the legal document from afar. You knew better than to go against a very wealthy family with good lawyers under their belt. Your father had used up all the money you had and had disappeared into thin air, leaving you with debts of dangerous people. You have been successfully avoiding every debt collector by sending them installments but the money was running low.

Today, as you signed the marriage certificate, you also had signed your house up for sale because that was the last valuable asset you had to pay off the debts. Your new husband had left you with a black card with unlimited cash flow but you did not want to associate with them. You knew if you used the money, strings would come attached, they always did. So you took up a job at a local bakery till you applied for big girl jobs. You faced many rejections but you never relented.

The year went by faster. You would often think about the day you got married. Since you were marking on your calendar as the months flew by. You had never seen your husband. Never knew the surname either. Or maybe, you never bothered to look at the name on the paper. He had signed and left before you. Your punctuality got the best of you and you saw him leave from behind. He was huge, beefy. But that didn't matter. You never saw him, or even lived in his house that he so graciously offered. You lived with two roommates in a tiny apartment. It wasn't a lot but the splitting the bills helped pay the proper debt installments. Lucky for you that bakery owners were nice enough to offer you actual cooked food so you had no grocery bills. All you knew about your husband was he had left the country for a new business venture. You were so okay with this arrangement. His black card still snug amongst your tattered money, unused.

Just 6 months before your 1 year anniversary, you got a job as a receptionist at the Levinson Hotels & Co. and the pay was really good. Everything was covered and you also requested a small room to stay since your roommates were moving out and you'd rather not stay in that pest riddled apartment for long. So you moved and started working. You would also visit your old bakery often and indulge in your favorite pastries. Your life was turning better and you had almost paid your debts. Keyword being almost. But you were fairly positive that you'll reach there and then the job will provide more for you than just debt money.

…………………………….

You were running late today. Not because you became lazy by living right in the motel, but because one of the bakery owners had an accident and you were the emergency contact. You had missed the morning meeting but your colleague promised to catch you up with it. But where was the time? The checking in and out of guests had taken over so much of your time, you forgot to ask and forgot your lunch. You pulled out the chocolate cupcake you had grabbed from the bakery on the way back and began munching on it while completely immersed in the paperworks. It wasn't until you felt a nudge on your side and throat clearing that you looked up to see the beast of a man, staring deep in your soul with an amused smirk on his mouth.

You scramble to stand up and send a few papers flying down. His blue eyes try to pull you in but look down to clear your throat and avoid eye contact. “How may I help you, sir?” You turn on your polite receptionist persona and give a small smile back to him.

“I don't suppose you have a room booked in my name, do you?” the beast- man- man beast- ugh! He asked with the look of amusement on his face.

“And your name?” You look up, waiting for his response.

His eyes widened a little. He never thought he would meet someone who did not know who he was. He was a very famous person after all. “Levinson. Ari Levinson.”

He looks as you type his name and asks to check his ID. He signaled everyone around him to not react and pulled out his passport to you. He watches you work diligently and securely handling the situation. He thought you must've known by now that he is your big boss but seeing you treat him like just another customer, made his heart pull a little. Just a little though. He somehow felt proud that his hotel had hired someone who took their work seriously. And he intended to keep you close more than ever. He knew that now that he is here, back in the country, his rivals will come back to sniff around to poach good employees. He was not letting you go.

“Ah yes! Here you go Mr. Levinson. Here are the keys to your penthouse suite. If you need anything, please press 1 on the phone in your room and someone from the reception will answer your requests. We also have a lovely restaurant with world-class food if you get hungry and if you have any more questions please feel free to ask.” You smile and hand over his ID and keys.

“I will keep all that in mind, Sugar.” He replies in a sultry tone and takes the frosting from your nose on his licking it as he makes his way to the elevator. You're stunned to say the least. No guest had invaded your personal space before. You pick up the tissue and wipe the nose so clean, it turns red from all the rubbing. Nobody reacts to what happened and they give you sideyes. You were used to the jealousy that came with the work but this felt something new. It felt as if everyone were in on something and you were the only clueless. You ignored it. You always do.

Ari reached his suite with ease. Of course he did. That is where he had been staying all these years. It was a registered room in the hotel but it was always under his name. It was his house after all. He sighed and flopped on the sofa while the housekeepers started unpacking his things for him. He could still taste the frosting. Delicious. His mind went back to you. He had never seen you so he assumes you were few of the new ones who were hired in desperation. While he was away, one of his rivals had poached a good amount of his employees, leaving the hotel miserable and vacant. He wanted to know more about you. So he did what a very normal person would do, call his secretary and ask him to bring your details.

Your entire life history was in his hands. He flipped through pages of information. He found out about your debts, your living situations and your employment as well. But there was one thing that left a sour taste in his mouth was your relationship status. You were married. He needed to check on it but when asked his secretary to look into it further, they came up with nothing. No information on the husband and the paperworks were tightly sealed into confidentiality. Whom were you married to?

Ari had thought maybe this was one time thing since you did not know his name but he was intrigued by you. He saw you out and about in the hotel, greeting and smiling at people. He saw through your fake smiles. He knew that was a professional smile. You were on his mind 24/7 and he didn't mind. He made it a routine to call the reception and ask things from you. He loved listening to your voice. Even though it was a very professional tone, just hearing you made his day. Every time he heard your voice or even saw you, his heart fluttered. Same went for you. You felt a tug on your heart every time you heard his baritone on the phone. You knew, some of his requests were ridiculous and he did that only to talk to you and couldn't stop that. You knew that consorting with guests is wrong but you couldn't help it. You also knew that you were married and you were forbidden from having another man in your life but you couldn't help it. You still had 4 more months before you could talk to your husband’s lawyer about getting a divorce and it was killing you. You now realized how much of freedom you had given up just to fulfill a promise.

His friend Lloyd was going to stay in the hotel for a few days. He was visiting him and he was also here for a work trip. Lloyd was a good man per se, but he still had a thing for ruining sweet things. You were one of them. Ari had made an arrangement that you won't be there to greet Lloyd but things never work the way they're supposed to. The person who was supposed to greet Lloyd was out sick and you had taken up his shift. Ari did not know. The main management, whom Ari had threatened did not know. Now, here you are, smile on your face, waiting for the swaggered man with a mustache to reach you so you can help him.

Ari got a text from Lloyd saying he is in the lobby. Ari finishes his drink and gets in the elevator. He was relaxed knowing you were never going to see Lloyd because you would be tasked to different spaces than him. The elevator dings open and he makes his way to the reception when he halts. He sees a genuine smile on your face and Lloyd’s flirty eyes raking all over your body. He knew Lloyd would not do anything without your consent and that you were married so there would be nothing there but this spark of jealousy had started burning. He was jealous of your husband, yes. But he knew that you were living on the premises alone. He never saw you with any man other than your colleagues and he never heard you talk about him. He assumed things are not good in your marriage so he indulged in flirting with you. But Lloyd was a different story. Married or not, he did not care. Lloyd always got what he wanted and Ari did not want Lloyd to want you. But he heard you giggle. You were giggling at something Lloyd said and he was turning green. Your giggle was the sweetest thing he’s ever heard and it wasn't for him. He stalks to the desk and jerks the key and ID away from your hand. He grabs Lloyd’s shirt and drags him to the elevator, leaving you confused and maybe a bit hurt.

“She’s a sweet thing, Levinson. I didn't know your hotel had improved so much that you had started to hire dolls.” Lloyd laughs as he is pushed in the room.

“Stay away from her. She is married.” Ari walks to the bar and pours himself another drink.

“Is that why you're jealous? That she has someone else filling her cunt instead of you.” Lloyd grabs another glass and fills it up. “You know husbands are never an issue. I could make her beg for me in front of her husband.”

“Very crass of you Lloyd. Leave her alone. Do not talk to her. You know what, do not engage with her at all. Just stay away.” Ari slams the glass on the kitchen counter and walks out. “And welcome back to the city Lloyd, I hope you enjoy your stay in my hotel.”

“Oh, I'm going to enjoy it alright.” Lloyd smirks as he downs his drink.

……………………..

Lloyd often found you around the hotel. Actually, Lloyd knew you were assigned away from him. He wanted to rile Ari up. He couldn't help it. He knew Ari wasn't gonna act on his feelings over a married woman and that did not stop Lloyd. He wanted Ari to do something about it. He wanted Ari to get riled up so much that he would finally get laid. After his ex, Ari had given up on sex. Ari said he was over meaningless sex and Lloyd was going to make sure that Ari ate his own words.

Ari saw Lloyd approach you and stop you on your way. Your eyes narrow and lips thinned, he thought you were pissed but within a second, you laughed and Ari froze. He had heard you giggle but he had never seen you laugh and he might've lost what remaining heart he had to that. He got pissed. Well, he has been pissed for a while but he didn't show it. For two entire weeks, he had seen Lloyd find you and flirt with you. No matter how hard he tried, Lloyd always went over his head to talk to you.

Ari had had it enough. He stomped his way to where you and Lloyd were standing. Your back was to him so you never saw him coming. The only indication was Lloyd’s raised eyebrow and a smirk before you were whisked into the arms of the man you have had dreams about. Dirty and all. Before you could get any words out, you were on Ari’s shoulder like a sack, being dragged away from a laughing Lloyd. You were confused, of course, but you were not turned on in a very weird way. You could feel the possessiveness of his arms around your waist. You tried to wriggle but was met with an even firmer grip. You saw the route you were taking was not guest approved.

“Mr. Levinson, please. I will get fired if you do this. This is not a guest approved area. I cannot have you in here. Please. Put me down and we can walk wherever you want me to.”

“Call me Ari, sugar. I have told you that before. Also, you are not going to get fired. Everything’s fine. Just stop wriggling. You're not helping your case, sugar.”

You weren't complaining though. All this while you were getting a perfectly good view of Ari’s perfect ass that you always try to subtly stare at. You didn't realize you had reached his room when he planted you on his bed. You tried to sit up but he pushed your shoulder a little, sprawling you back on the bed. You were horny enough to understand the situation but you were also aware enough that Ari is not someone who would force you to do something you don't want to do.

Ari locks his room door and walks over to the bed. You had made no move of getting up from the position he threw you in. He smiled. You were obedient. He slowly straddles you and leans into you. Your eyes are glazed with lust but you try not to show it. But he saw the glaze. He leans in close to you. Your faces are inches apart. He has caged you between his arms, and, well, the entire body. Not that you wanted to leave. Your breath hitches as he comes closer.

“Never talk to someone else. Don't laugh with them, don't giggle with them, don't even give them your real smile.” he growls. He is so close to you. He can smell the faint rose cologne that you so love to use. He can even smell the faint hint of glycerin body wash you use. He leans in closer. He moves towards your neck and kisses you right below your ear, sending shivers down your spine, making you gasp.

Your hands instinctively reach up and grab his collar. He freezes, thinking you were going to push him off but your slight pull gave him the approval to continue. He keeps his face there and litters a few more kisses on your neck. You knew you should say something but what? What was going to come out of your mouth but moans and whimpers if you opened it. You risked it. You had to put a stop to this. You were married for fuck’s sake! And this man was not your husband. As much as you wanted this man, Ari, to ruin you, you were not free. You still have a few more months before you get contacted by your husband’s lawyers about the divorce papers.

“Ari,” your voice came out softer than anticipated. “We can't do this.” you haven't even kissed yet. He was busy peppering kisses all over your neck, trying not to leave marks. He wanted the world to know that you were on his mind. He wanted to taste those lips that were always tasting cupcakes and muffins. He wanted to know how sweet you were. Inside out.

“Ari,” you try to pursue again. Your hands twist in his hair in an attempt to pull his face off your neck but instead all you could do is push. “Please, we can't. I- I'm married, Ari and so are you. We can't.” you softly push his face off your neck and hold his face in your hand.

“How do you know I'm married, Sugar?” Ari never told anyone. How did she know?

“The ring is glinting in my eyes, Ari. the sun told me. I- i don't want- i can’t- this is all- Ari, please. Don't make me say things I don't want to mean. I can't ruin your marriage and I cannot ruin mine. You are a guest here. I am already breaking so many rules for you. Don't make me lose my job. I am so close to getting what I want.”

You caress his face and just like that, you peck his lips. You both freeze. Kissing was never on the table, let alone pecking. His eyes darken and he leans again. Just one look in his stormy blue eyes and you lean your head up to meet his lips again. He pushes down with his lips and the passion flutters. Your fingers grab onto his hair, tugging and pulling while his lips assaulted yours. He slipped his tongue in your mouth and was winning the dominance. You let him carry you. You were drowning in his passion and he held onto you. You pulled at his bottom lip and that gained you a breathy moan. His moan was so contagious that you whimpered against his lips and he deepened the kiss and gained a moan from you. His hands were all over your body. Caressing, tugging and holding but never pulling. In need of breath, you both pulled away and he rested his forehead against yours. He would peck your lips to contain the heavy breathing.

“I am not letting you go now, Sugar. I have tasted your sweet lips and I intend to taste more. I don't care about your husband anymore.” Ari pecks your lips one more time and pulls away.

You try to sit up and he helps you. Both of you are sitting at the edge of the bed. You get up and walk towards the bathroom to check your makeup and hair. You start fixing your hair as Ari walks in and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. You never really thought much about your height difference but looking in the mirror, you can see that he is tall enough to rest his chin on your forehead without slouching.

“I will help you divorce your husband. I am already preparing to leave my wife. I want you all to myself.” he nuzzles your neck, his beard brushing against your shoulder.

You lean against his chest and take his affection in. “I can't divorce my husband. At least, not yet. I have to wait for this year to end. He is a very powerful man, Ari. a man who lives in an expensive suite will not be enough to take him down. He can ruin my life if he finds out I have even flirted with someone else.”

“What kind of asshole are you married to? Does he, did he- did he ever touch? You know, did he ever-”

“Never met him in my life. I don't think he knows what I look like and neither do I know what he looks like. All I know is that I had to marry him to keep my mother’s promise. It is a very litigious contract, Ari. If he finds out that I have an affair while married to him, I will have to pay him 10 million to rectify his reputation. I don't have that type of money. I also have my last debts to pay. I can't afford to love you.” You squeak and put your hand on your mouth as soon as you say the last sentence.

You can see Ari tilt his head in the mirror and a big smile on his face. “You love me, Sugar?”

You cover your face which has turned red and shake your head. He laughs and kisses your head. His laugh is the most magnificent sound you have ever heard. His voice might turn you on but his laughter made you feel a whole different feeling.

“That was not the point of the entire thing.” Your voice muffled behind your hand. His laughter vibrates through you and it has pulled all the heartstrings it can. His hold around your waist tightens.

“Fine. I will wait. But I will pay off your debts. Let me, please. You might not be able to afford to love me right now but I am very much capable of loving you enough for the two of us.” He turns you around and removes your hand from your face.

“I love you, Sugar. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you by my side.” he pecks your lips and caresses your cheeks. “My wife, well, her family are gold diggers. They manipulated my mother into thinking that their daughter was a good match for me. But I had to marry her. I can divorce her now, the timeline is over and I am sure she has enjoyed my wealth enough. I don't want her, never have, never will. All I want is you. Just you, Sugar.”

“How are you so sure that I'm not a gold digger? Maybe I am. I do belong to a poor family, and have debts. Maybe I seduced you seeing you live in a penthouse suite and all. Then what? Will you still love me?” You asked, letting out a singular piece of insecurity that gnawed at you.

“I am sure you're not after my money because you would have seduced me a long time ago. You had so many chances, baby. But you still never did anything about it. And about your debts, well, I'm sure there must be a reasonable explanation. I know you will tell me. So do not call yourself that. I will not have you talk nonsense about the love of my life.” he pinched your nose.

“Love of your life, huh? You're being overconfident.” You wrap your arms around his waist and draw him close. You take in his scent. He smelt so wonderful, musky and woodsy. You sigh in content and stay wrapped around him longer.

You unwrap yourself from him. “I have to go. My boss, the owner, somehow keeps on reassigning me to different places. I've got these pager thingies to keep track of that. I don't know when and where he will be needing me again.” When, where and how, sugar. Ari’s thoughts went overboard. Imagining you bent over his desk and him taking-

“Ari? Are you listening?” You tilt your head to the side. Ari’s grip had tightened around you making you stop. “Yes, Sugar, I am always listening to you. You don't have to worry about the boss. I'm sure he can deal with his own things.” Ari waddled his way to the bed with you in his arms.

“Oh no no. Ari. no. We are not doing anything. I am married, you are married and I am at work. I cannot ignore the big boss. I was told he had just arrived and lives in this very hotel. I haven't run into him yet which is a good thing but it's also scary that my employer lives in the same place I do. I cannot afford to make any mistakes now. He can fire me and I need this job. I promise I will find a way to make it up to you. Did you like the cupcakes I got you last week? I can get those again for you. I-” You try to get out of his clutches. It was hard. Not in that way. It was hard that way too but, ugh! No point in overthinking. Ari tightened his hold around you and sat you both down on the bed. Not sat per se. He shifted to the middle of the king size bed and made you straddle him, keeping a tight hold on you.

“Sugar, you need to stop talking about your boss or I will be jealous of myself.” He chuckled and kissed your cheek.

“What do you mean you are jealous of yourself?” you were confused. What did he mean?

“Well, Sugar. I have to confess something and before you blast, I need you to listen to me, alright?” his hands roamed over my waist and back as if trying to coax me. I nodded.

“Well, the first day, when you gave me my room keys, you didn't know whom you were talking to. And I liked that. So I told the staff to never reveal who I actually am to you. You just know me as a businessman but actually I am a hotelier. I own hotels. A lot of them. They Are spread world wide. But this hotel is special. This was my family's very first hotel and I came back because this is my home. This room is mine. Permanently. You never knew that. I liked that. You were unadulterated. You did not behave like I am a big bad boss so I never corrected you. You were- God!- you were refreshing, sugar! I loved our conversations because you never hesitated. I loved it! You treated me like one of the guests and I got to know how proud I am to have employees like you in my hotel! But then I started falling for you and I knew I had to tell you the truth. I was going to! But then Lloyd showed up and he tried to get to you and I lost it.” your eyes widened with the confession.

You never expected to fall in love, first of all. And second of all, you never expected to fall in love with the owner of the hotel! A billionaire! You looked down at yourself. You were in the uniform. Dirty, a reminder where you stood. You shuffled, trying to get off his lap but his hold tightened and he pulled you to his chest. You stumbled and your lips collided with his. Before you could pull away, he held your neck and deepened the kiss leading you to moan. Your brain starts working and you tap his chest twice before he lets go.

“That was very opportunistic of you, Ari, uh, sir. I shouldn't-”

“Don't Y/N. I told you the truth because I wanted to build our relationship on truth. I am still your Ari. do not see me as your boss. Please. I love what we have. Don't sully it by thinking that you don't deserve me. I can hear your thoughts, Sugar. They are loud. I will not let you think these things. Before all these designations, we are people and I love my Sugar and she loves her Ari, right?” he cups your face and traces your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Mhm.” You nod. You lean in to kiss both his cheeks. “I should still go. We spent hours together, Ari. As much as i love this, i cannot stay like this much longer. My husband might have sent his people to see if I am ruining his reputation or not and I don't want to drag you in the middle of my mess. So, I should go now.” you shuffle out of his grip and down the bed. The sun was about to set and you turned on the room lights. You do the same with the living room and kitchen lights before leaving the room.

“But- I love you, Sugar.” Ari whimpered. Seeing how she didn't bother to say it back. He was about to leave the bed when he heard his door open again. He saw you peep in with a wide smile “I love you, Ari.” and with that, you scurried away, leaving a widely smiling, blushing Ari.

…………………………

Meeting Ari in secret had become a habit. He would randomly pull you in secluded places and his lips would be immediately on yours. He tried very hard not to leave marks on you but some days were harder than others. You haven't had sex though. He respected your decision enough to not push it. Hell! You haven't even touched each other other than making out sessions in the corners! You wanted him badly but you were so close to freedom.

Three months were left for the year end and you got a phone call while Ari was nipping your neck. You shuffled and pulled out your phone, only to see it was your husband’s the lawyer. You sighed and signaled Ari to wait. He groaned and rested his forehead on your shoulder. You begin combing through his hair with your fingers because that calms you down.

“Hello! I have been waiting for your call for months!” you say as soon as you pick up.

“Well, I suppose for the same reason as your husband. The paperworks is just under process. As soon as I get my hands on them, they'll be ready to sign and the next day of your anniversary, you will be a divorced woman. Your husband wants the same thing. But we do need to meet with you to discuss finances. Since you were not allowed to sign a prenup and all.” Mr. Barber, your husband’s lawyer, gave details where to meet and you agreed. All this while, Ari was very slowly marking your neck. He couldn't help it. Your hands in his hair, combing them through, was making it very difficult for him to not mark. You let it happen. While he was easing your frustration, he too was frustrated with his divorce lining up.

“Sounds good! I will see you tomorrow.” you cut the call and put it back in your pocket. You smile brightly at Ari, who looks at you in confusion. “It finally happened! That was my husband’s lawyer and we are meeting tomorrow to see if i want to keep anything from him, which i do not, and then, within three months i will officially be a divorcee! I am so excited!” Seeing you happy, Ari chuckled and hugged you tight. You both let out a sigh of relief. He let you go and you went back to the front desk. He helped cover the lovely dark marks he left on you. You did, after all, have an entire day of work left.

When Ari reached his office, he got a call from his lawyer saying his wife was ready to meet. Ari really wanted to see the face of the woman he married but decided against it. He did not need to feel guilty for being in love with you. He just wanted to get this over with. He didn't even care about anything but you anymore. His wife could have all his fortune and he would be content with you by his side. He told Lloyd about everything that happened. Lloyd was happy for him, revealing that he provoked him on purpose. Ari just shook his head and they went back to laughing.

“Barber is back. He's handling all my divorce paperwork. He said he'll meet us tomorrow after he meets my wife. Finally! I will be free to live my life with my Sugar.” Ari stretched over his sofa. Lloyd was sitting across from him. With whiskey in their tumblers, he congratulated Ari for being one step closer to the freedom he's always wanted.

………………………..

Tomorrow could not have come sooner. You got ready to meet the lawyer for your lunch. Ari had subtly changed your lunch schedule so that you can get a longer break. Nobody in the hotel was suspicious of what was going on so you were at ease. Not that you cared what they thought but you just wanted things to be revealed after your divorce. So many things were piling up in your to-do list with Ari that your patience was running low. You wanted to drag him to bed so bad. You took a deep breath and grabbed your purse. Lucky for you, the restaurant was just one block down. You walked to the place and looked around to see the lawyer sitting patiently.

“Hello Mr. Barber! I am sorry I ran late. A sudden work emergency came up.” You shake his hand and sit down opposite him. He asks you to order for your meal and after ordering, you decide to jump right into business.

“So, Mr. Barber, what does my husband want me to do? Oh! Here,” you pull out his black card from your wallet. “Please give this back to him. I never used it. I never had a chance to give it back because it arrived a week after signing the certificate. Also, do tell him that I never used his house. It wasn't mine to begin with. I have a good job and a place to stay so I am not blaming him for anything. I know I have nothing to apologize for but do tell him I am sorry on behalf of my mother who signed that agreement. My mother signed it when i wasn't even born so i couldn't exactly stop her and from what i have heard is that she used to be a sentimental woman. She did this to protect her friendship with Diana and I do hope my husband understands that.”

Mr. Barber said nothing and the lunch ended quietly and quickly. You made a note to mention that you wish to take nothing from your husband and that his money and property are his. You get a text from one of your coworkers about an emergency with a guest so you leave in a hurry saying goodbyes and goodlucks.

……………………….

“Andy! How are you? How is Boston treating you?” Lloyd slapped his back as he settled down on Ari’s sofa. Andrew Barber was also a childhood friend of Ari and met Lloyd in university. All three of them have been best friends since then. There is a fourth but he is often busy.

“All good. Can't complain. Broke up with Laura, finally. I was too blind to see how manipulative she was. Finally got proof of her affairs and dumped her. What about you Lloyd? Found someone to ruin?” Andy took a sip from his tumbler.

“I did. But Ari stole her from me. She- OWW!” Lloyd looks up to see it was Ari who smacked him and smirked.

“Shut it, Hansen. Barber, how did it go with the wife? How much was she asking for?” Ari sat down beside Lloyd.

Andy sat up straight. “Funnily enough, she asked for nothing. In fact, she apologized on behalf of her mother for signing the contract because she was sentimental and something about protecting the friendship with your mother. Oh yes!” Andy digs through his work bag and brings out a wallet. “She left her wallet. Left in a hurry. Something about a work emergency. She also told me to let you know that she did not use the card you gave her or the house. Independent and all. I think you should still look into all her claims.”

Ari, even though he did not care, wanted to see what the woman looked like. His soon-to-be ex-wife’s wallet was right there in front of him. He sighed and gave in to his curiosity. He took the wallet and opened it. He saw the black card, brand new, laying in one of the compartments. There was some cash in there too, tattered at the end. His hand drifted to her IDs. His eyes saw a familiar card and he pulled out. It was the ID of his hotel staff. The moment he saw the photo and the name, his brain started scrambling. He started feeling numb and he closed the wallet and threw it back on the table.

“Levinson? Are you okay? What happened?” A concerned Lloyd asked. Lloyd wasn't the one to care but he saw his tough friend tremble. He took the ID from his hand and his eyes bulged. “Is this his wife?” He pointed at the photo in the ID at Andy who squinted and nodded. “Oh shit!”

“What? Am I missing something?” Andy’s interest piqued.

“That’s his little girlfriend. The one he is desperately in love with.” Lloyd clarified and Andy whistled in a low tone.

“Did you not see her downstairs?” Ari finally found his voice.

“Who? Your wife or your girlfriend?” Andy gauffed and Lloyd joined in.

“The receptionist. My girlfriend, or my wife. I don't know. Did you not see her when you came upstairs?” Ari asked impatiently.

“No. There was some guy who directed me upstairs. And I heard someone say that the other receptionist was handling an agitated guest. Why? Is she here? Does she work here, Ari?” Andy asked.

“Yes. this woman,” Ari pointed at the ID, “works here. I don't know who she is anymore. But she said she's never seen her husband! How? I'm sure my house has plenty of my photos. Was she lying? Did she try to manipulate me?” Ari was confused and ranted out his doubts.

Lloyd was not one to show sympathy but he did feel bad for his friend. He texted his secretary and clicked the photo of your ID, asking about all of your details. He had ways he could even get confidential secrets revealed. Lloyd liked you for Ari but if you were going to betray him, he wasn't just going to enjoy the show, he was going to destroy you. His secretary was quick. Within half an hour, he got every tiny bit of information about you.

“Says here that she's married to Ari Levinson. Which is supposed to be confidential. Did you know that your wife doesn't even know your name because of the confidentiality?” Lloyd points out on his ipad.

“What? Is this true, Andy?” Ari rubs his eyes and double checks the files in Lloyd’s ipad.

“Yeah. you told me you didn't want anything to do with her so your name, work, address, phone numbers, everything was concealed. She doesn't even know how rich you are or that this is your hotel.” Andy nods and points out to the paperwork he brought out from his bag.

“And, it says here that her mother was your mother’s childhood friend. Her father was a drunk and gambler and so she wanted a better life for her daughter, I guess. Looks like she's still paying her father’s debts. She didn't even know about the debts till her father left, which was right before she signed the certificate. Damn! Her father beat her up because she was a child and could not get the money. That's why your mother sent them money!” Lloyd continued.

“She hasn't used any of the money you gave her. Hell! She even lived in this tiny ass apartment. Look at it.” Lloyd showed Ari the photos of your apartment area. Ari winced. He didn't know this. He never bothered to care. But now he did. For different reasons.

He started wondering about times when he played with Andy and Ransom when they were young and saw his mother talking to a young girl. He remembered her sitting on the chair with her head down, crying. He remembered not bothering to talk to her because she had mud on her face and bruises on her arms. He remembered his mother telling him that this was the girl he would marry someday and him scrunching his face in disgust. He always kept that little girl at a distance. She never saw him but always did. He even asked all the servants to not show his photos or anything to the girl because he wanted nothing to do with her. Ari realized, all these years, it was you and it had always been you. He was too stubborn to see it. He could have saved years of hurt and pain if he had just met you, got to know you. If only he hadn't run away from you then, maybe divorcing you would never have come up. He felt guilty. But not anymore. You were in his reach and he would not let you go anymore. He will keep you for his entire life and he will apologize for all these years of ignorance.

“On what basis were you filing for divorce, Andy?” Ari asked with sudden ideas spurring in his mind on ways to cancel the divorce filing.

“Well, at first we were thinking of defamation but she never had an affair. Then, we were going to go for lack of consummation because, well, you were away. What are you thinking, Ari?” Andy sipped the drink. He knew Ari was onto something but his eyes widened at Ari’s idea.

“What if we consummate? What if I convince her to sleep with me? Then we can’t get divorced. I will apologize to her. Tell her everything. She has been mine all this time. I can't let her go! She will leave if she finds out I was the one she was divorcing. Cancel the paperwork, Andy. I'm staying married.” Ari stood up and put her wallet on his bedside. 

…………………………..

You were frantically looking for your wallet. All your life savings was in there and so was your hotel ID. You were lucky to be staying in the hotel but that still didn't mean that ID wasn’t required. Getting in and out of the VIP section was part of your job and now you were lost. You could ask Ari to get access but you didn't want to. You've been doing this all on your own for a while then why would you want his help over such a trivial thing? Your brain worked and you called Andy, the lawyer. He was the last person to see your wallet, maybe he took it with him.

After a few rings, Andy picked up his phone. “Hey Mr. Barber, sorry to bother you so late but have you seen my wallet? I left it when I ran out of the restaurant… oh really! Thank you so much. Yes, I will collect it from the front desk. Thank you so much and really sorry for the bother.”

You rushed out from your room to make your way to the front desk. Meanwhile, Lloyd and Andy held Ari down before he could begin his confrontation plan. Andy left your wallet at the frontdesk and both the friends dragged Ari back up to his suite to avoid a show. Andy coaxed Ari into inviting you to his suite tomorrow and spending the entire day clarifying the situation. Ari was an impatient one. He wanted you then, he wanted you now but even he understood that now was not the right time. Before he could call you to arrange for tomorrow's meeting, he got a call that there was an emergency at one of his hotels two states away. He had to leave and he might not be back for a week. He called you to meet. The least he could do is say goodbye before he goes.

When you arrived upstairs, the suite looked partied through. At least the kind of parties rich businessmen throw. Ari had allowed you to use the spare key whenever you wanted so having it handy had its perks. You heard shuffling in the bedroom so you made your way to it. You saw Ari packing and your heart thud with anxiety at the sight of it.

“Sugar, I am only going for a week. It's an emergency two states down. You won't even know i was gone.” he immediately sensed your anxiety.

“But how did you know that i-”

“I know you by now, Sugar. This is why I called you. I wasn't gonna see you for a week and I wanted to feel you, get you all over me before that.” he drops his bag on the floor and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Are you leaving right now?” you asked, playing with the buttons of his shirt.

“No. tomorrow afternoon. They can manage till then. Tonight I wanted it to be about us.”

Before you could process what he said, he crashed his lips on you. Your hands cupped his face and pulled his lips even closer. His hand cupped your breast and teased your nipples from over the clothing which made you gasp. He slipped his tongue in your mouth and your moans collided. All the pent up frustration from your body was making its appearance and Ari knew exactly what he was doing. He had seen your annoyed face when all you both could do was kiss or makeout. She would always put a stop to humping. He knew why but he never wanted to force you into doing something you didn't have the right mind for. But today you were all his and he was going to seduce you to bed.

He lifted you off the ground as you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pinned you to the wall. “Ari. please.” you moan as his lips move to kiss your cheeks. He slowly backs up to the bed taking you with him and straddles you to his waist as his head hits the pillows in the middle of the bed. None of you have any intention of breaking the kiss. He moves his lips from yours and trails kisses down to your neck. You crane your neck to give him better access. Your hands immediately move to unbutton his shirt clumsily. You groaned in frustration, gaining a very lighthearted chuckle from Ari that vibrated through your neck. You gently hit his chest and he laughs, making you laugh too.

He sits up and helps you remove his shirt. He then lifts your shirt up and you, very gladly, let him take it off, leaving you in your night pajama pants and bra. “Damn, Sugar. You're a sight for sore eyes.” He caresses your waist.

He flips you over and now he is in control. He makes sure to leave prominent marks on your neck this time, at least a week’s worth. You arch your body and hint to go further down. You lift his hand from your waist and put it on your breast. He smirks and trails his lips further down. You move your hand to remove your bra but he holds your wrist. “Allow me, Sugar. This is a privilege.” He unclasped the bra and threw it above your head. He stopped and looked at your breasts as if he was seeing the most wondrous thing ever.

“You have hidden them from me for so long, Sugar. Today I will finally taste the sweet skin of your body. And oh they were worth the wait. But not anymore.” He instantly takes your right nipple in his mouth and you moan louder. Your hand grips the bed sheets tightly as he sucks on your nipple. His other hand, fumbles with removing your pants. He removes his lips from the right nipple and moves the left giving it the same treatment, leaving you panting and gasping.

You realize he wants your pants off so you sit up and take his lips to yours again. You bundle your underwear and pants together, pushing them down your hips. He removes them with much ease, leaving you completely naked. He was about to jump back on you when you raised your hand and pointed at his pants. “Off.” He unbuckles his belt and removes his pants and boxer haphazardly.

You see his naked body and begin to salivate. You had seen your fair share of hot bodies but Ari was on a whole nother level. His body was sculpted by greek sculptures and his cock, glistening with pre-cum was thick and veiny. You had to gulp. Your core got wetter by nanoseconds that you stared at Ari.

“If you are done looking at Sugar, i'd love to look at you now.” He climbed and crawled slowly towards you like an animal. You instinctively spread your legs to let him settle between them. Your core was so wet, your cum was dripping out of the hole. Ari moaned at the sight of it. Without any warning, he dived right in and took your core in his mouth. You squealed and mewled as he kept suckign on you. Your hands tried to push Ari out but he held your hips tight and dove deeper. His tongue in you was not doing you any favors. Ari put your legs on his broad shoulders to get a better angle and you tried to squeeze your thighs together.

“Sugar, I swear, do it again. Squeeze me. I want to be inside you so bad but you taste so divine.”

The knot in your stomach tightened as you were close. “Ari, please. I'm so close.” Ari increased the speed of his tongue and intertwined his hand with yours as your other hand gripped his hair tighter. “Cum, Sugar. Cum for me.”

His words opened the dam and you released your juice all over his face as he continued to slurp you up. You screamed and arched with pleasure as Ari lapped up the last of you. He slowly moved away from your core, letting you breathe a little and kissed your inner thighs. You trailed to your calf and you looked at him. He was looking right at you. His blue eyes had turned dark with lust and his face was covered in your juice.

He leaned back to your face and caught your lips with his. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned louder. “I'm gonna be in you, Sugar. Just tell me if you need me to stop and I will pause. But sorry, Sugar, I won't be able to stop. I've waited long enough, not anymore. I'll be taking you raw, cumming in you.” He whispered against your lips and you nodded weakly.

He aligned himself against you and looked at you for permission. You nodded again and he slowly, very slowly, slid in. you arch against the mattress as he fills you in. “Please Ari.” He pushed himself further in and you let out a gasp. You could feel him in your belly. He waited for a second to let you adjust to his length. He looked down to see you sprawled on his bed with his marks all over your neck and breasts. He was pleased by his work. “Ari, baby, please move. I can't.” Your begging spurs him in and he thrusts further in leaving you gasping.

He pulls out slowly and leaves the tip in. before you could even make up your mind to speak, he thrusts in you hard, making you scream his name. He thrusts in you again and again, moaning and panting. He says your name like a prayer and you, his. He brings his mouth to your boobs and sucks on them while you hold his head against your chest. His lips move back to your neck and you can hear his moans in your ears, leaving a symphony.

“Fuck, Sugar! Should've done this way sooner. You are so made for me. All mine.” His thrusts leave you drunk and when he finds an angle and hits your spot, you scream his name again, leaving him smirking. “That’s the spot, Sugar? That's what makes you stars, doesn't it? I will show you stars all night long, Sugar.” He relentlessly thrusts on your spot leaving you panting and screaming.

“Ari, I'm cumming. Please. Cum in me.” You beg, bringing his lips to yours. “So pleased to hear that, Sugar. In you. I will always cum in you. Fill you up with me. You will let me, won't you, Sugar.” He brings his fingers to your clit and starts rubbing on it, making you mewl.

“Cum with me, Sugar. Come on. I know you're there. Let go.” His thrusts turn sloppy and irregular and his fingers on your clit make you gush all over his cock just as his cum fills you up. Few more thrusts and he lays on you, pressing you into the mattress. You whine and try to push him off which he obliged but doesn't make an effort to move out from you.

He pulls you closer and his cock twitches in you, making you whine. “You've got to take it out, Ari, please. I gotta clean up.” You put your hand on his cheek. “Who said anything about moving, Sugar. I am keeping you here all night. Even if it's just to warm my cock. I've got you now, I've tasted you and now I am not letting you go. At least until tomorrow afternoon.”

You squeal and giggle as he pulls you on top of him, still inside you and starts trailing kisses on your body. You let yourself be swept away with Ari till he leaves you exhausted and sleep deprived.

…………………………

It had been a week and a half. Ari had texted that the paperwork got longer so will be back by the weekend. You missed him. But you are also worried now. You had slept with a man who was not your husband. Just two more months till the divorce and you had ruined your chance to be free. You have been meaning to talk to Ari about this but there was no time. You didn't stand a chance when Ari kept on seducing the entire night, fuzzing up your brain to come with anything. You were constantly worried that you might get a call saying you're being charged with defamation of your husband.

When your phone rang, you jumped and reached to see it was Mr. Barber. “Hello. Is everything okay, Mr. Barber?” Your anxiety spiked.

“Yes, everything is fine. I just called to inform you that your husband does not want to divorce you. He went over your details and made a decision that you are good for the family and would likely come see you soon, hoping for a good marital life.” Mr. Barber went on to explain that your husband respected your decisions and was pleased with everything. Your mind went blank. No thoughts, just anxiety.

“But, Mr. Barber, how can he suddenly change his decision? This is not fair! I have a life and I have work and I have-” you stopped yourself from saying Ari’s name. This was a disaster. What were you going to tell Ari? Ari said he is also divorcing his wife and it is final, they are just waiting for papers. What would you do? You had slept with Ari. your husband was going to kill the both of you. Or worse, defame you in front of the world. You could not let that happen to Ari. you loved him. He didn't deserve to be ruined like this. The phone call had ended and you were still holding it. You were so lost in thoughts that you did not see the glass vase on the front desk and ran into it. The glass shattered on your feet and blood seeped out of them. You felt no pain but you watched as the water from the vase and your blood mixed, forming an inevitable doom that your mind had become.

Lloyd was in the lobby when this happened and he immediately scooped you up. He sat you down on the sofa and cursed about how Ari was going to have his head. He saw tears streaming down your face but you had no expression. He propped your feet on his lap and carefully removed the glasses. He had barked orders to bring in a doctor and the resident doctor had shown up. The doctor cleaned your wounds and cleaned tiny shards of glasses from your feet. He cleaned and dressed your feet in bandages.

You were about to stand after thanking the doctor, when Lloyd scooped you up. “I cannot let you walk like this. I'll carry you to your room and you stay there. I'll talk to Ari and will get you a few days of bedrest.” you absentmindedly nodded, not reacting to the situation.

……………………………

Ari stomped his way to his suite. Lloyd had moved you in his room so you were resting on his bed when he slammed open the door, making you jump. When Ari got a call from Lloyd saying what had happened to you, it shattered his heart. He couldn't leave the hotel on its own so he stayed till the weekends. By now, the entire hotel knew about Ari’s affections towards you because Lloyd would occasionally call room services for you. No one minded but of course, who was going to stop the rumors. Luckily, you weren't there to hear any of them.

Seeing you on the bed with your feet covered in bandages, Ari’s feet wobbled and he knelt next to you. You had taken up an entire side of his bed and he didn't mind. In fact he loved it. “You got hurt. I wasn't there to protect you. I'm sorry, Sugar. I should've been here. I'm so sorry for being so late.”

“Ari, it's fine. We talked about this, didn't we? You were there for the emergency. You couldn't just leave and come. I'm fine. See. I'm all better. Stings a little but almost healed. Your work is just as important. This is your life, after all.” You stroke his hair.

“You are important too. You are my life now, Sugar. It's all you, only you. No one else.”

His confession shattered the happy illusion you are living in. you had buried the canceled divorce deep in your mind but his confession brought it all back. It started leaving its traces on your face as tears. You had broken down even without knowing. Ari shook up. He had never seen a breakdown like this before. He moved to his side of the bed and hugged you close as you struggled to breath and cry.

After a few minutes, you calmed down and drank the water, Ari offered. “Please go change Ari. we need to talk.” You say in a small, trembling voice. Ari nodded and stood up to take a shower and dress comfortably. He wore a shirt because seeing you, he knew it was not the time to seduce you. He saw you wring your hands and breath in heavily.

“Ari, I got a call on the day of my accident. It was my husband's lawyer. He, well, he told me that my husband doesn't want a divorce anymore.” You were not looking at Ari. how could you when the love you built with him was going to shatter within seconds. You didn't want to see a broken Ari. “I- the decision is not in my hands. His mother loved my mother so she suggested we get married. He holds all the power. I'm just someone who goes along. Mostly because I fear he would do something if I stray.” You gulped. You were trying to find a way to tell Ari that you will always love him but won't be able to be with him. “My husband is a very powerful man, Ari. he can do anything and one of those things is destroying someone else's life. If he finds out about us, about you, he will not stop until nothing of yours remains. Ari, I love you, so so much. But I cannot let that man destroy you. I will do anything to protect you.”

You finally look up to meet Ari’s eyes. He was looking at you intensely. Maybe lovingly even. You didn't need to say that you will stay married to someone you didn't love to protect him. He understood. There was adoration in his eyes. He cups your face and kisses you. You close your eyes and cherish the soft kiss he is giving you right now. He leans his forehead against yours and smiles. “I love you so much, Sugar.”

He sits up and takes your hands in his. “I'm going to tell you something and I want you to keep an open mind. Can you do that for me, Sugar? Will you listen to me before saying anything?”

You nod and he continues. “Well, I got to look into your files. Your last name, your husband's last name is Levinson. You might've not known this. Because he never told you. I'm a Levinson, Sugar. I am the Levinson you're married to. I was an idiot. Since I was young, my mother would always point to you and tell me I'll be marrying you. To a child it seemed silly but the older I grew, the more annoyed and irritated I got. I wasn't given a choice in choosing my own partner. It felt manipulative. So when we found the contract, it pissed me off even more that I was tied to you for life. The only problem in all of this was, because of my stubbornness, I never bothered to look into you, look at you. You always looked like a thorn to me but I was an idiot. When I met you here, I didn't know you were my wife. I fell in love for who you are. I found out about you being my wife the day you went to see Andy, the lawyer. He is a good friend of mine. He had come over for drinks and tossed me your wallet saying that my wife had left it. I was so close to divorcing my wife and was thinking of a happy life with you. But my curiosity got the best of me and went through your wallet when I found out that it was you all along. I was pissed at myself for ignoring you all this time. I was angry at myself for letting the time slip by me during which I could've had you. I wanted to tell you that night but Andy told me it's better to wait for the next day. But as you know, the emergency arrived and I had to leave.”

He stared at you. Looking for a reaction. Instead he found a thoughtful look on your face. “When I found out that you were my wife all this time, I asked Andy to stop the paperwork and call you to tell you that we were not divorcing. The timing was off. You were supposed to know all this before Andy called you but work ran late. And I banned Andy or Lloyd from talking about this with you. I wanted to be the one to tell you that I am your husband. I am that idiot, powerful, scary husband that can destroy anyone who comes near you.”

Minutes passed. It was agonizing for Ari. he wanted you to say something. There were tears welled up in his eyes. Suddenly, you started laughing. Not a maniacal laugh but a genuine laughter. “So, you mean to say, I was worried about my affair with my own husband! I was worried my own husband would destroy himself because I slept with him!” You laugh even louder. You calmed down after a while and looked at Ari, who had tears slipping down his face.

“Why are you crying?” You cradle his face and wipe his tears. You pull him on you and bury his face in your neck. He gets comfortable and wraps his arms around you tightly. You stroke his hair with one hand while the other strokes his arms.

“I thought you would hate me after that. After I reveal to you that I am your husband.” Ari’s voice trembled. You pull him closer. “I can never hate you, Ari. And yes, it might be your fault but it is mostly our mothers’ fault. They never bothered to meet us up. They never pushed us to get to know each other. Of course we grew up hating each other. They took away a choice. It's okay. I'm just glad that it's you. My love, my husband, it's all you. Also, this makes a funny story about a wife and husband having an affair with each other.” You giggle at the last line, making Ari laugh too.

“Ari, I'd love to stay married to you. You know, in a way I am glad it's you. If it was someone else, I would've died. I don't think I can see my life without you in it anymore. Let the past be in the past and let's go together from here, yes?”

You bring Ari’s face up and kiss him deeply. He shifts and pulls you under him. “I'm glad you're my wife. My love and my soulmate. I'm going to cherish every moment we have together.”

........................

the ask box for this fic is open

[dovesndecay]

It's June! It's Pride! It's (my) Birthday!

The Introduction Spiel:

Hi, I'm Reyah! (any pronouns! no really, go for it!) On June 21st, I'm turning 32, an exciting and mysterious age to be!! (So I've heard)

Warning: This is a post asking for financial help, and if there's one thing I would ask is that if you read the whole thing: please reblog.

I'm a multiply-disabled queer person of color, a writer, artist, and photographer. I live with three of my best-good-pal-friends, (@renthony, @kryptidkhaos, and @natalieironside) and our collective army of pets.

We all know it's damned hard to be all these things at the same time under the capitalistic hellscape we're living under, and we/I am always in need of a lot of help with the existing.

I ended the month of May with some smaller bills left still to pay, but am thankful to say that June already had fewer bills than usual due, and the amount I need to start the summer off right is actually less than I was afraid it would be! Woohoo!

What I Make

I mentioned my artistic endeavors, let me show you them!!

Writing

I write less often than I'd like, but I share poetry and shorts, when I have them, on my Patreon!

You must be over 18 to pledge, as I have, can, and will again share Adult Content occasionally. Patrons pledging at least $1/month get access to all content. But most posts becomes free to access eventually. :)

When I do longer form content, I primarily write fantasy with a focus on queer brown characters with disabilities, mental illnesses, and disordered attachments. Because therapy is expensive, and writing is free.

Photography

I do wildlife and landscape photography, primarily, but you can also check out my portrait and event work on my website! You can purchase PRINTS HERE.

And because it's my birthday, I'm offering a 32% discount code for all my prints! The code is good from June 1st to July 1st!

A Note, if you purchase a print: first off: thank you. (please feel free to send a photo of wherever you display it!!!) secondly: this will not go towards the received totals on my financial need because Pixels doesn't pay out until nearly 2 months after the purchase. Funds made from sales will go towards future needs.

CODE: PDHHTR

Artwork

I've been exploring art, both analog and digital, a lot more lately, and have shared both process photos and final drafts on Patreon! Here are just a few examples:

I admittedly don't post on patreon as much as I wish I had the energy to, but I try to make at least one thing a month, provided I have the spoons and time.

Creativity is, like, a level 5 spell slot when you're disabled and impoverished, and I appear to have exactly One (1) of those available at any given time.

The Needs:

The Bills: $1,100

Yeah, we had to get here eventually. Since this post is already pretty long, I'm putting the rest under a cut.

More than half of this, as always, is just for the car payment and insurance that keeps the regular day-job-haver getting to said job, and all our medical appointments, errands, etc.

I still owe around $13,000 total on Johnny Car, but I think we all know that's just not a real number.

The rest of the funds would go toward paying the small subscriptions, for my various medications, and the regular attempts to whittle away slowly at the $4,300 worth of other debt.

($2,200 of back taxes, and $2,100 of credit card debt, and gods, do I mean slowly. Interest piles up so much faster than I can seem to whittle.)

If you're able and willing to help with paying the bills, direct donations can be made here:

PayPal | (link)

Venmo | (dovesndecay)

Cashapp | ($dovesndecay)

If you can, and only if you can.

The It Would Be Cools:

Since every dime that comes in goes primarily towards food and bills, there's little left afterward to be put towards other life necessities like clothes, toiletries, let alone things I just think would be nice/neat/nifty to have.

I have a High Priority wishlist. It's mostly art supplies, bulk toiletries, etc.

I'm woefully low on clothes, being short, fat, and trans, so very little of what I own actually feels good to wear so much as it simply covers my body. I have a wishlist of clothes that would be nice to have.

For everything that firmly lands under the "I just want it" category, I have an Enrichment list. It's mostly stuffies, but also games, room decor, hobby supplies, books, and stim toys.

Our household keeps a big wishlist for things we need, want, groceries, accessibility products, and everything in-between.

Okay, now what?

Well, now, I'm gonna ask that if you got to this point, and if you can't/don't want to do any of the things listed above, then please reblog this post.

The more people that reblog it, the more likely I'm able to pay my bills for one more month this year.

But if you don't, it's not like anyone's gonna know. I'm not omniscient, I swear.

Anyway, I don't expect anyone to do anything if you can't or even if you just don't wanna, but if you can and you're willing to, it means the world.

I didn't think this is where I'd be at 32. But I never really expected to get here at all in the end, and it's a lot nicer than I thought it would be. Mostly because I am surrounded by amazing people who have the capacity to be so much kinder than I will ever have the words to describe.

Thank you, and to all, a happy pride!

🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤